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Our  Woman  workers. 


BIOGRAPHICAL    SKETCHES 


Women  Eminent  in  the   Universalist  Church  for  Literary, 
Philanthropic  and  Christian    Work. 


BY    AIRS.     E.    R.     HANSON. 


SK(  IOND      r.DITKJX 


CHICAGO  : 
The  Stak  and  Covenant  Office. 

I  SSI'. 


COPYRIGHTED, 

1881. 
E.    R.    HANSON. 


GEO.    DANIELS.    PHINTER,  70  ANO  01    RANDOLPH   ST.,    CHICAQO. 


PREFACE. 


Some  two  years  since,  when  traveling  on  an  Iowa  railroad,  I  fell  into  a  con- 
versation with  a  lady  ot  a  partial  faith,  when,  with  no  little  Incredulity  Bhe  in- 
quired, "What  women  of  your  church  have  distinguished  themselves  by  a  manifesta- 
tion of  Christian,  or  philanthropic  zeal?"  Casting  about  for  an  answer  to  her  ques- 
tion. I  was  astonished  as  the  long  and  brilliant  procession  moved  across  the  field 
of  my  mind's  vision,  and  the  longer  I  dwelt  on  them  the  greater  my  astonishment 
became,  and  at  length  I  said,  "Never  did  a  church  include  a  larger  proportion  of 
noble  women." 

Then  followed  the  thought,  H<>\v  rapidly  their  names  are  growing  dim?  How 
soon  it  will  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  rescue  the  data  of  many  of  their  lives 
from  oblivion.  Even  in  the  next  generation  much  that  is  now  obtainable  will  have 
gone  beyond  recovery.  Would  that  some  pen  might  be  employed  in  the  delightful 
task  of  recording  their  life-histories,  and  giving  to  others  who  love  the  church  they 
loved,  at  least  a  brief  compendium  of  their  lives.  With  this  thought  came  the  im- 
pulse to  begin  the  pleasing  work,  ami  as  my  inquiries  have  extended  the  materials 
have  increased,  until  they  became  to  me  what  I  am  sure  they  will  prove  to  be 
even  to  those  most  familiar  with  the  history  of  our  church,  a  revelation,  causing 
mingled  surprise  and  delight. 

In  preparing  this  book  I  have  greatly  needed  courage  for  the  delicate  task  of 
writing  the  full  truth  of  the  loving  and  tender  work  of  those  who  are  living;  to 
write  it  in  such  a  way  as  not  to  fall  below  the  credit  due  them,  and  in  so  doing 
not  to  briiiK  blushes  upon  their  kindly  Faces  by  seeming  flattery.  Indeed.  I  have 
tried  to  imagine  them  all  as  dead,  that  I  might  speak  the  truth  with  a  clear  con- 
science, and  I  do  not  believe  I  have  in  any  one  instance  overstated  the  estimate 
of  those  win'  knew  her.  I  say  this  because  I  have  found  some  who  were  uncon- 
scious that   they   had  done    aught  deserving  of    mention. 

My  earnest  wish  has  been  not  only  to  refresh  the  memories  ,,f  justice-loving 
people,  and  preserve  a  record  of  the  Christian  devotedness  ami  mental  abilities  >>f 
our  women,  but  to  do.  as  nearly  as   possible,  exact    justice  to  their  relative  worth. 

I  had  intended  to  print  my  sketches  chronologically,  but  found  it  impossible 
to  keep  up  with  the  printers,  and  prepare  the  articles  in  chronological  succession, 
and  therefore  the  plan  was  soon  abandoned. 

It  was  also  my  purpose  to  give  to  each  subject  a  space  proportionate  to  her 
relative  merits,  but  the  materials  in  some  cases  were  easy  and  in  others  diffi- 
cult to  procure.    This  will  explain  any  apparent  disproportion  between  the  sketches. 

The  reader  should  bear  in  mind  that  the  most  of  the  names  here  presented  are 
representative.    Could   all   those  faithful   and   consecrated  women  who  deserve   places 


1 9C95S0 


OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

in  such  a  book  as  this  be  described,  a  library  and  not  a  volume  should  contain 
the  splendid  record. 

A  delightful  experience  has  been  mine  in  my  correspondence.  More  than  two 
thousand  letters  have  been  written,  to  all  of  which  came  courteous  answers,  and 
but  two  refusals  to  co-operate  with  me  have  been  received,  one,  with  courteous 
regrets,  whose  name  I  have  not  chronicled,  and  one,  an  unimportant  one,  of  whom 
I  was  able  to  collect  all  the  essential  facts.  Men  and  women  in  and  out  of  our 
church,  persons  high  in  office,  and  social  standing,  all  have  kindly  responded. 
Even  one  of  the  coroneted  heads  of  Europe  promptly  furthered  my  request,  as  will 
be  seen  in  the  sketch  of  Clara  Barton.  I  desire  to  record  the  fact  that  men,  even 
those  who  are  supposed  to  have  little  sympathy  with  what  is  sometimes  called  the 
"woman  movement,"  have  exhibited  the  greatest1  willingness  to  aid  in  recording 
the  splendid  work  of  our  "Elect  Ladies,"  and  have  afforded  me  most  welcome  as- 
sistance.  I  have  met  none  of  that  hostility  to  the  work  of  women  which  is  some- 
times attributed  to  men. 

In  some  cases  it  has  required  months  to  And  some  "missing  link,"  a  fact  or 
incident  desirable  to  record  correctly.  But  sooner  or  later  I  have  obtained  most  of 
the  data  sought,  so  that  I  feel  confident  in  saying  that  the  accounts  given  will  in 
all  cases  be  found  trustworthy,  and  as  nearly  complete  as  the  most  persistent  effort 
could  make  them. 

This  book  is.  not  only  designed  to  refresh  the  memories  of  our  older  people, 
but  to  teach  our  children  the  grandeur  of  those  women  who  in  the  first  century  of 
our  church  have  given  freely  from  heart  and  mind  in  aid  of  the  "faith  once  de- 
livered to  the    saints." 

With  the  conviction  that  I  have  done  my  best,  I  present  my  offering  to  the 
denomination  in  whose  communion  my  life  has  been  spent,  with  the  hope  that  it 
will  find  a  place  in  the  hearts  and  by  the  fire-side  altars  of  our  people,  and  that 
they  will  take  an  honorable  pride  in  these,  the  consecrated  and  beautiful  lives  of 
those  who  have  b  >en  the  products  and  the  exponents  of  the  grandest  religious 
faith  ever  yet   cherished  in  the  heart  of  man  or  woman. 

Some  among  the  writers  quoted  are  not,  though  some  are,  of  the  gifted  few 
whose  words  arrest  the  attention  of  a  generation,  but  they  belong  to  those  who 
have  had  and  improved  the  great  opportunity 

To  write  one  earnest  word  or  line, 
Which,  seeking  not  tin;  praise  of  art, 
Shall  make  a  clearer  faith  and  manhood  shine 
In  the  untutored  heart. 

She  who  does  this,  in  verse  or  prose, 
May  be  forgotten  in  her  day, 
Bui   surely  shall  be  crowned  at  last,  with  those 

Who   live   and    speak   for  aye. 

There  are  larger,  older,  richer  communions  than  our  own,  that  can  point  to 
more   richly  endowed    Institutions,   ami   greater   material   trophies  than  our  own  pos- 

our  Church  considers  such  names  as  those  thai  arc  r rded  in  these 

pair's  -he  may  well  look  with  delighl  at  the  bright  array,  and  exclaim  with  Cor- 
nelia, the  mother  of  the  Gracchi, 

"These  ake  jiy  jewels  1" 


INTRODUCTION. 


"When  Christianity  came  from  the  hand  of  its  author,  it  was  the  revelation  of  a 
Father  whose  love  is  absolutely  undiminishable  for  each  ami  all  hi-  children;  a  love 
so  re-enforced  by  infinite  wisdom  ami  power,  that  it  will  finally  place  tin-  entire 
family  of  man  in  an  unbroken  ami  eternal  home.  Scarcely,  however,  had  this  sub- 
lime revelation  dawned  in  brightness  on  the  world,  when  it  began  t<>  enter  an 
eclipse.  Converts  from  Paganism  accepted  Christ,  but  most  inadequately  compre- 
hended him.  ami  brought  in  their  gross  ami  cruel  conceptions  of  God  ami  religion, 
until  the  purity  ami  beauty  of  the  divinest  of  all  revelations  were  obscured  and 
concealed  by  heathen  errors. 

The  culmination  of  this  baleful  influence  of  darkness  and  deformity  was  pro- 
duced by  one  of  the  most  powerful  of  tie'  Christian  Fathers,  who  was  also  one  of 
the  most  unhuman  of  men,— Augustine,— a  man  of  gigantic  intellect  and  influence, 
which  were  exei'ted  in  behalf  of  darkness  and  error.  In  his  "Latin  Christianity" 
Milman  says  that  Augustine  "compelled"  thai  total  change  of  Christian  thought  and 
feeling  which  was  to  influence  the  Christianity  of  the  remotest  ages.  Having,  by 
his  own  confessions,  spent  his  youth  in  the  brothels  of  Carthage,  he  devoted  his 
vast  abilities,  after  his  conversion,  to  the  task  of  reconciling  Christianity  ami  Pagan- 
ism. He  discarded  the  woman  he  should  have  married,  contrary  to  the  earnest 
wish  of  Moni.-a,  his  mother,  because  he  thought  a  celibate  life  essential  to  holiness. 
His  only  son  was  born  without  legal  father  or  mother,  ami  his  whole  life  was  in 
direct  hostility  to  that  sacred  relation,  the  paternal,  on  which  Christianity  is  built, 
and    on    which   all   true   society    rests.      Such   a    man    knew    nothing  and    could    leach 

nothing  of  tl ardinal  idea  of  Christ's  religion,     lie  buried  the  Father  out  of  sight 

beneath  the  Lawgiver  and  Executioner.  He  transferred  to  the  God  "f  Christianity 
the  savage  characteristics  of  barbarous  tyrants.  He  transfused  Christianity  with 
th«'  blood  of  heathen  Rome,  until  its  penal  code,  its  false  system  of  obligation  ami 

itract,  ami  the  entire  spiril  and  genius  of  Pagan  error  were   made  to  overslaugh 

the  teachings  of  Christ.  He  invented  Calvinism  before  Calvin,  and  hi.-  statement  of 
Christianity  was  literally  man-made;  for  the  head,  the  heart,  the  hand  of  woman 
nevei  assisted  the  fierce  masculine  artificer  in  the  construction  of  the  harsh,  cruel, 
and    perverted    form     in    which,    fur    fifteen    centuries,    the    religi f    Jesus     was 


VI  INTRODUCTION. 

destined  to  be  travestied  to  the  world.  It  ignored  those  relations  that  are  most 
sacred  to  woman,  and  crushed  her  divinest  aspirations  and  affections,  and  lay  like 
a  nightmare  on  the  race.  Every  cradle  was  regarded  as  a  nest  in  which  a  moral 
viper  was  cherished.  Every  human  mother  propagated  a  race  of  monsters.  Only 
the  omniscient  God  can  tell  how  woman  was  tortured  and  crucified  duriag  the  long 
ages  of  that  reign  of  terror.  If  man  held  the  prevailing  religion  endurable  by  rea- 
son of  its  masculine  traits  that  gratified  the  intellect,  millions  of  women  found  it 
unspeakably  repulsive,  as  it  crushed  and  lacerated  their  divinely-human  affections. 
Who  can  doubt  that  the  monstrous  deformity  that  so  long  usurped  the  .place  of  a 
genuine  Christianity  would  have  been  an  unborn  horror  had  the  wife  and  mother 
of  Augustine  co-operated  with  him  in  the  interpretation  of  the  teachings  of  Jesus,— 
had  he  recognized  the  sacred  relations  of  husband,  and  son,  and  father  ? 

No  mother,  looking  on  the  face  of  her  babe,  ever  invented  or  tolerated  the 
idea  of  total  depravity;  no  woman,  thinking  of  her  son  or  daughter,  however  old, 
—for  to  the  mother  the  son  or  daughter  always  remains  a  child,— ever  conceived 
the  possibility  of  endless  torture  for  that  child.  Only  the  celibate  monk  in  gloomy 
cell,  divorced  from  the  sweet  relations  of  domestic  life,  ignorant  of  that  best  type 
of  heaven,  a  happy  earthly  home,  could  have  invented  the  mediaeval  Christianity. 
Calvinism,  Arminianism,  Partialism  in  any  form,  is  in  the  worst  sense  of  the  words 
a  masculine  faith,  destitute  of  all  feminine  grace,  and  it  was  not  until  the  potent 
voice  of  woman  was  heard  in  its  interpretation  that  a  perverted  Christianity  began 
to  slough  it-  asperities.  It  was  not  until  the  brain  of  man  and  the  heart  of  woman, 
his  intellecl  an. I  her  affections,  were  combined  in  the  study  of  Christianity,  that  its 
character  was  understood,  and  our  blessed  faith  appeared. 

The»  long  eclipse  began  to  disappear  with  the  dawn  of  the  Reformation,  and 
as  tin-  principles  of  Christianity  asserted  themselves,  woman  advanced  more  con- 
spicuously to  advocate  them,  no  longer  the  nun.  or  the  sister  of  charity,  with 
Bhackled  mind  and  heart  oppressed.  She  began  to  think  and  speak  ami  act  untram- 
meled,  under  the  inspiration  of  the  word  of  life,  and  as  that  word  was  spoken  in 
it-  fullness,  her  voir,'  was  heard  as  never  before,  for  not  until  the  accents  of  the 
divine  facl  or  Fatherhood  penetrated  her  heart,  unrefracted  and  unperverted,  did 
she  reply  with  the  besl  utterances  of  he,-  own  spirit;  and  it  was  not  until  that  fact 
began  to   be  admitted   thai  she   took   her  place  at    the  side  of  man,  his   co-partner 

in   the    religious    work   of   the    world. 

When  the  distinguishing  truths  of  the  TJniversalist  Church  were  first  pro- 
claimed  in  modem  time-  aboul  a  century  ago  woman,  so  long  repressed— was 
almost  .1  Btranger  In  our  religious  gatherings.  Men  came  at  once  in  throngs,  but 
women  were  "like  angels'  visits,  few  and  far  between."  Bui  as  tin'  glad  tidings. 
Bpread  apace  it   was  discovered  that  the   new-born  faith  was   more  essential  to  the 


INTRODUCTION.  Vll 

highest  needs  of  woman  than  to  those  of  man.  Neither  had  ever  been  satisfied 
with  the  old;  both  found  all  that  could  be  desired  in  the  new  statements  of  God's 
disposition  and  man's  di'stiny.  The  writer  of  these  lines  can  remember  wheu  in 
an  assembly  of  Universalis!  worshipers  only  lien-  and  there  a  woman  could  I"-  seen 
in  the  crowd  oi  level-headed  men,  but  she  was  usually  one  who,  "through  the 
much  tribulation'  of  trial  and  bereavement,  had  entered  the  kingdom;  but  ere  long 
the  number  increased,  until  now  the  excess  of  women  among  our  workers  is  almost 
as  greal   as  was  then  the  excess  of  men. 

ft  should  be  said,  however,  that  outside  of  our  organizations,  among  the  great 
"cloud  of  witnesses"  who  have  testified  to  this  truth  in  the  supreme  court  of  genius, 
woman's  voice  lias  often  been  heard  in  literature,  and  her  spirit  has  been  active 
in  philanthropy,  under  the  inspiration  of  this  faith.  From  the  nature  of  the  case 
the  millions  who,  in  humble  and  unregarded  ways  have  lived  and  labored  in  its 
light,  and  died  and  made  no  sign,  are  unknown,  and  must  forever  be  unrecorded 
in  our  annals,   while  only  the  few  have  left  "foot-prints  in  the  sands  of  Time."* 

In  Europe  such  women  as  Joanna  Baillie,  Anna  Letitia  Barbauld,  Mary  M. 
Sherwood.  Sarah  Flower  Adams.  Alison  K.  Cockburn,  Lady  Byron,  Frederika  Bremer, 
Harriet  Mart ineau,  Elisabeth  Frye.  Mary  Carpenter,  Charlote  Bronte,  Elisabeth  Bar- 
rett Browning.  Florence  Nightingale,  Frances  Power  Cobbe,  Helen  M.  Williams, 
Adelaide  Procter.  Mary  Howitt,  Elisabeth  Arundel  Charles.  Jean  fngelow,  Dinah 
Muloch  Craik,  Elisabeth  C  Glephaue;  and  in  America,  besides  those  named  in  the 
body  of  this  work.  Lydia  Maria  Child.  Margaret  Fuller,  Dorothea  Dix,  Harriet 
Beecher  Stowe,  A.  D.  T.  'Whitney,  F.  If.  J.  Cieaveland,  Eliza  Seudder,  Lucj  Lareom, 
and  a  host  of  others,  not  any  of  them  professedly  belonging  to  our  communion. 
have  left  definite  declarations  of  our  faith,  or  have  breathed  its  beneficent  spirit  in 
their  recorded  words.  Indeed,  with  the  rarest  exceptions,  the  great  and  increasing 
multitude  of  women  who  have  become  eminent  in  philanthropy  and  literature. 
have  exercised  a  potent  influence  in  melting  the  icy  rigors  of  ancient  error,  and 
have  helped  to  hasten  the  coming  of  the  present  era  of  liberal  thought.  Some  of 
them  would  not  have  confessed,  perhaps,  even  to  themselves,  that  they  consciously 
cherished  the  faith  which  their  lives  really  promoted.  "They  builded  better  than 
they  knew."  But  most  of  those  mentioned  above  have,  in  definite  language,  explic- 
itly uttered  the  universal  faith,  and  all  those  named,  and  multitudes  of  others  have 
helped  to  swell  the  volume  of  influence  that  woman  has  given  to  restore  Christian- 
ity  to  its  original   purity. 


•The  render  will  find  the  expression  of  the  thought  of  universal  salvation  traced  through 
literature,  in  n  volume  by  the  author  of  this  Introduction,  entitled:  "A  Cloud  ol   Witni 
containing  selections  from  the  writings  of  poets  and  other  literary  and   celebrated  persons, 
expressive  of  the  universal  triumph  oi  good  over  evil. 


Till  INTRODUCTION. 

It  was  a  happy  thought,  which  this  volume  has  been  prepared  to  exeeuta,  to 
perpetuate  the  memories  of  the  best  known  and  recognized  of  the  women  who, 
during  the  first  century  of  the  existence  of  the  Universalist  Church,  have  identified 
themselves  with  its  fate,  or  who  had  been  instrumental  in  promoting  its  growth. 
They  well  represent  the  great  multitude  of  devoted  ones  who,  though  less  known, 
were  equally  consecrated  and  faithful,  and  possibly  no  less  influential  in  establish- 
ing that  church  which,  alone  among  Christian  sects,  advocates  the  blessed  hope 
expressed  by  one  of  the  sisters  Bronte: 

And  oh,  there  lives  within  my  heart, 

A  hope  long  nursed  by  me ; 
And  should  its  cheering  ray  depart, 

How  dark  my  soul  would  be ! 

That  as  in  Adam  all  have  died 

In  Christ  shall  all  men  live; 
And  ever  round  his   throne  abide, 

Eternal  praise  to  rive. 

That  even  the  wicked  shall  at  last 

Be  fitted  for  the  skies ; 
And  when  their  dreadful  doom  is  past, 

To  life  and  light  arise. 

1  ask  not  bow  remote  the  day, 

Nor  what  the  sinner's  woe, 
Before  their  dross  is  purged  away; 

Enough  for  me  to  know 

That  when  the  cup  of  wrath  is  drained, 

The  metal  purified, 
They'll  cling  to  what  they  once  disdained, 

And  live  by  hi  in  that  died. 

The  writer  of  these  sketches  has  produced  an  array  of  names  that  would 
shed  glory  on  any  church,  or  any  cause,  anil  their  words  and  characters  can  not 
be  read  and  studied  without  causing  an  increase  of  love  in  the  hearts  of  their  sis- 
ters and  all  others  of  like  precious  faith,  for  their  Alma  Mater,  and  new  zeal  and 
devotion  in  behalf  <>f  a  church  which  can  point  to  such  a  shining  galaxy  of  noblo 
women,  the  produd  and  exponents  of  its  benign  and  gracious  spirit. 

Chicago,   Si'lJlumber,  1881.  J.   W.   HANSON. 


Our  Woman  Workers. 


N  the  inception  of  this  book  the  first  thought  that  came  to  my  mind  was  to 
give  word-pictures  of  those  women  who  helped  to  lay  the  foundations  of 
our  church,  and  who  dared,  in  the  old  days  of  persecution,  declare  to  the  great, 
hungering  world  the  blessed  truths  that  had  set  them  free.  I  felt  that  the 
hearts  of  all  Universalists  who  could  be  made  acquainted  with  the  heroism 
that  had  helped  those  women  to  endure  oblocpiy  and  despise  the  shame  put 
upon  them,  would  be  drawn  very  near  to  them,  and  would  beat  warmly  in 
sympathy  with  them.  I  gave  my  thought  to  a  friend,  and  his  reply  was: 
*'  Yes!  it  took  men  and  women,  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  to  live  ami  dis- 
course our  faith  with  Christian  hearing  before  the  ignorance  of  the  days  of 
the  infancy  of  our  church."  My  immediate  mental  response  was, — "  It  takes 
men  and  women  to-day  to  tell  the  beauties  of  our  faith,  and  Christ's  tender 
sympathy,  and  God's  all-conquering  and  boundless  love,  in  a  manner  to  touch 
the  hearts  of  those  who  believe  in  a  partial  salvation;  and  we  have  them, 
and  their  love,  philanthropy  and  hard  work  must  lie  chronicled  with  those 
who  first  rose  in  its  defense."  And  so  I  shall  give  to  my  readers  sketches  of 
our  earlier  ami  later  workers,  who  not  only  deserve  but  possess  our  love  and 
sympathy. 

It  will  not  lie  out  of  place,  even  in  a  book  which  is  to  treat  exclusively 
of  women,  to  allude  to  the  remarkable  circumstances  accompanying  the 
founding  of  the  faith  in  America,  that  these  grand  women  so  nobly  defended, 
and  so  faithfully  lived:  for  it  is  one  of  the  strangest  stories  in  all  the 
annals  of  religious  history.  As  it  is  related  by  Rev.  John  Murray,  in  his 
wonderful  autobiography,   it   possesses  an    irresistible   charm,  and   tills  the 


2  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

mind  of  the  candid  with  the  conviction  that  the  great  and  tender-hearted 
modem  apostle  of  "  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints  "  was  a  Providen- 
tial man — an  agent  of  the  good  Father,  to  bear  to  his  children  the  glad  tid- 
ings which  had  so  long  been  concealed  by  the  darkness  of  superstition.  His 
flight  from  England  to  bury  his  sorrows  in  the  American  wilderness,  and 
to  escape  the  burthen  which  he  felt  to  convey  to  the  world  the  new  and 
unpopular  truth  revealed  to  him;  the  anchoring  of  his  ship  by  stress  of 
weather  on  the  wilderness  coast  of  New  Jersey;  his  interview  with  the  sim- 
ple-hearted Thomas  Potter,  who  had  built  a  church  in  which  should  be 
preached  the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  and  his  recognition  of  Murray, 
of  whom  he  had  never  heard,  as  the  man  God  had  sent  to  preach  the  unsearch- 
able riches;  the  question, — "Will  you,  sir,  speak  to  me  and  to  my  neighbors  of 
the  things  which  belong  to  our  peace?"  Mr.  Murray's  refusal,  on  the  ground 
that  he  must  sail  as  soon  as  the  wind  changed,  and  the  assurance  of  Mr. 
Potter  that  the  wind  would  not  change  until  he  had  spoken  the  great 
message  that  God  had  surely  sent  him  to  deliver ;  and  the  fact  that  the  wind 
did  not  change  until  Mr.  Murray,  September  30,  1770,  in  this  sea-coast 
chapel,  did  preach  to  these  anxiously  waiting  souls,  in  his  own  words,  "a 
redemption  free  as  the  light  of  heaven," — all  this  reads  like  a  strange  dream. 
And  Mr.  Murray  was  one  of  the  first  to  herald  in  this  broad  America  what  he  truly 
calls  "these  glad,  these  vast  yet  obnoxious  tidings,"  that  the  women  of 
long  ago,  wbo  now  rest  in  peace  at  the  end  of  life's  journey,  fearlessly 
defended,  and  labored  to  up-build.  Kemoving  to  Gloucester,  Mass.,  in 
1774,  Mr.  Murray  at  once  found  a  generous  following,  and  among  his 
stanch  supporters  was  Winthrop  Sargent,  a  daughter  of  whom  became  the 
devoted  wife  of  the  great  apostle  of  a  world's  salvation. 

It  is  a  matter  of  history  that  there  were  several  families  in  Gloucester, 
Mass.,  that  had  accepted  Umversalian  views  before  John  Murray's  advent. 
Rev.  Richard  Eddy,  in  the"Universalist  Quarterly"for  April,  1881,  declares 
that  they  were  brought  from  England,  derived  from  Relley.  Undoubtedly 
there  were  other  nurseries  of  the  good  seed  in  other  portions  of  the  land,  for 
Murray  found  much  fallow  ground  as  he  toiled.  Perhaps  there  wen;  many 
women  consecrated  to  the  great  truth  so  soon  to  appear  in  all  parts  of  the 
land,  whose  names  have  perished,  but  who, if  known,  would  adorn  the  annals 


JUDITH    HURRAY.  3 

of  our  faith.  But  it  seeins  especially  fitting  tlr.it  the  wife  of  the  first  great 
modern  organizer  of  this  truth,  who  \v,is  one  of  the  most  accomplished  of 
the  "Women  of  our  Church,"  should  he  the  first  to  he  described  in  the  pages 
of  this  hook. 


JUDITH    MURRAY. 


Judith  Sargent  was  the  widow  of  John  Stephens  before  she  became  the 
second  wife  of  Rev.  John  Murray,  to  whom  she  was  married  in  Salem,  Mass., 
in  October,  1788.  Mr.  Eddy  says:  "She  was  born  at  Gloucester,  Mass., 
May  5,  1751,  and  was  the  oldest  of  eight  children  of  Winthrop  and  Judith 
Sargent.  Her  father  descended  from  William  Sargent  2nd,  who  settled  in 
Gloucester  in  l(37<i,  and  was  an  enterprising  and  successful  merchant,  of  whom 
the  historian  of  the  town  has  recorded  that  he  was  'an  intelligent  and  benev- 
olent man,  whose  qualities  of  head  and  heart  secured  him  universal  esteem.' 
He  was  an  officer  in  a  sloop  of  war  at  the  taking  of  Cape  Breton  in  1745; 
member  of  the  Committee  of  Safety  in  1775;  Government  Agent  for  Cape 
Ann  during  the  war  for  Independence ;  and  delegate  to  the  State  Convention 
for  ratifying  the  Federal  Constitution." 

Very  little  can  be  learned  of  this  lady's  personal  appearance.  Mr.  Eddy 
remarks:  "  Very  few  persons  are  now  living  who  ever  saw  Mrs.  Murray.  A 
niece,  the  venerable  Mrs.  Worcester,  is  still  living  in  Salem,  Mass., 
who  spent  several  years  with  her  aunt  after  Mr.  Murray's  death.  Two  veiy 
intelligent  aged  women  who  well  remember  her  still  reside  in  Gloucester. 
These  unite  in  describing  her  as  possessing  remarkable  personal  beauty,  gifted 
with  wonderful  conversational  powers,  and  much  beloved  and  sought  after 
by  the  better  portion  of  society.  'The  late  Rev.  Sebastian  Streeter,  who  often 
met  her,  describes  her  as  being  of  commanding  person,  of  very  strong  deter- 
mination and  nerve,  but  always  discriminating,  intelligent  and  polite."  She 
possessed  a  strong  will — with  energy  to  persevere  in  whatever  she  undertook, 
and  a  conscience  which  was  ever  alive  to  defend  what  she  thought  right,  and 


4  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS . 

to  disclaim  any  ownership  in  the  ideas  of  others,  whether  she  approved  of 
them  or  not.  Well-authenticated  tradition  describes  her  as  ever  on  the  alert 
to  defend  the  sentiments  advocated  by  her  distinguished  husband,  sentiments 
which  she  had  embraced  with  the  most  ardent  enthusiasm,  going  so  far,  on 
one  occasion,  as  to  prevail  upon  a  member  of  Mr.  Murray's  congregation  to 
arise  and  protest  against  obnoxious  sentiments  uttered  by  Hosea  Ballon,  in 
Mr.  Murray's  absence.  Mrs.  Murray's  decision  and  zeal  were  not  pertinacity, 
but  a  conscientious  conviction  of  duty  to  combat  whatever  she  considered 
wrong,  and  her  invincible  courage  caused  those  who  did  not  accept  her  ideas 
to  regard  her  persistence  as  obstinacy.  I  believe  these  views  agree  with  those 
of  Rev  G.  L.  Demarest,  who  says,  in  his  introduction  to  the  "Life  of  Murray," 
— "While  we  are  interested  in  the  traditions  which  give  glimpses  of  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray's disposition  to  rule,  and  her  strength  of  purpose,  we  infer,  from  what  we 
know  of  her,  the  possession  of  strong  affectional  magnetism,  as  weU  as  of 
masculine  energy  and  intellect,  and  I  respect  her  conjugal  consideration  and 
her  spiritual  earnestness." 

Mrs.  Murray  was  a  very  devoted  and  tender  wife;  her  love  for  her  hus- 
band amounted  almost  to  idolatry.     She  says  in  her  biography  of  him : 

It  was  upon  the  19th  day  of  October,  1809,  that  the  fatal  blow  was  given 
to  a,  life  so  valuable,  so  greatly  endowed,  so  truly  precious;  but,  although  the 
eorporeal  powers  "f  the  long-active  preacher  became  so  far  useless  as  to  render 
him  helpless  as  a  new-born  babe— although  he  was  indeed  a  complete  cripple,  yet 
tie'  sainl  si  ill  Lingered;  was  still  detained  by  the  all-wise  decree  of  the  Mosl  High, 
a  prisoner  in  Ids  clay-built  tenement,  nor  did  his  complete  beatification  take  place 
until  the  Sabbath  morning  of  September  ::,  1815,  lacking  only  a  few  days  of  six 
complete  years. 

I  give  tlic  above  to  show  the  beautiful  and  simple  style  in  which  the 
biography  is  written,  as  well  as  the  tenderness  expressed  therein.  Mrs.  Mur- 
ray,  with  tine,  wifely  wisdom  and  love,  was  a,  patient  nurse,  never  once  for- 
g<  feting  li<  i-  duty,  and  performing  it-  thoughtfully  and  tenderly:  arid  she  per- 
■  red  until  Die  end  of  flic  long  illness,  until  iho,  "beatification"  took  place. 
Rev.  Richard  Eddy,  who  lias  made  the  history  of  our  church  a  careful  study, 
writes  to  me:  "During  Mr.  Murray's  lingering  illness  his  wife  was  untiring 
in  her  efforts,  not  only  to  contribute  to  his  personal  comfort  at  home,  but 
also  .to  add  to  bis  fame  and    secure   tie1   perpetuity   of   his   memory   in   the 


JUDITH    MURRAY.  5 

widest  possible  extent.  With  patient  industry  she  gathered  his  widely  scat- 
tered correspondence,  selected  from  his  large  stock  of  sermons  those  which 
most  fully  suf  forth  his  distinctive  theology,  and  superintended  their  publi- 
cation in  three  large  volumes.  After  his  decease  she  completed  the  memoir 
of  his  life  from  1775  to  the  date  of  his  death,  and  published  it  in  style  and 
size  corresponding  with  the  Letters  and  Sermons.  No  book  read  by  Univer- 
salists  has  had  a  larger  sale  nor  a  more  deserved  popularity.  The  fascinating 
style  in  which  the  wonderful  story  is  written,  the  strange  and  manifestly 
Providential  character  of  many  of  its  incidents,  the  history  of  the  manner  in 
which  his  preaching  of  universal  redemption  was  received  in  the  many  and 
widely  scattered  fields  in  which  belabored,  the  strongly  manifest  friendship 
of  the  warm  hearts  which  sympathized  with  him,  and  the  bitter  intolerance 
of  bis  opponents,  with  many  charming  literary  peculiarities,  make  the  book 
a  noble  monument  of  her  devotion,  earnestness  and  ability." 

Her  strength  of  intellect  is  unquestionable,  and  the  knowledge  of  the 
men  and  women  of  letters  displayed  in  her  writings  shows,  as  she  said  of 
Lady  Jane  Grey,  that  "her  great  mind  had  improved  by  uniform  application." 

Mrs.  Murray  commenced  in  February,  1792,  to  publish  in  the  "  Massa- 
chusetts Magazine"  a  series  of  one  hundred  essays  entitled  "  The  Gleaner," 
under  an  assumed  masculine  character.  These  essays  show  conclusively  that 
she  was  one  of  the  ablest  of  the  woman  authors  in  her  day  in  America. 
The  essays  were  subsequently  published  in  three  volumes,  in  book  form,  by 
I.  Thomas  and  E.  T.  Andrews,  in  Boston,  1798,  dedicated  to  John  Adams, 
President  of  the  United  States.     In  the  preface  she  quaintly  says : 

My  desires  are,  I  am  free  to  own,  aspiring,  perhaps,  presumptuously  so.  I 
would  lie  distinguished  and  respected  by  my  contemporaries;  I  would  be  continued 
in  grateful  remembrance  when  I  make  my  exit;  and  I  would  descend  with  celeb- 
rity to  posterity. 

Before  the  publication  of  "The  Gleaner"  Mrs.  Murray  obtained  eight 
hundred  subscribers,  and  the  character  of  those  who  desired  the  book  indi- 
cates in  what  estimation  the  essays  were  held.  Among  them  were  John 
Adams  (then  President),  Fisher  Ames,  Benjamin  Barton,  M.  D.,  Nicholas 
Brown,  Maj.  Gen.  Cobb,  Hon.  Elbridge  Gerry,  Capt.  W.  H.  Harrison,  Tbos. 
P.  Ives,  Gen.  Benjamin  Lincoln,  Hon.  Harrison  G.  Otis,   Josiah  Quincey, 


6  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

David  Ramsey,  Increase  Summer,  Lucius  Manlius  Sargent,  "William  Tudor, 
George  Washington,  Mrs.  Martha  Washington,  John  Warren,  M.  D.,  etc.  In 
Her  acknowledgment  to  her  patrons  Mrs.  Murray  says: 

To  my  very  respectable  and  numerous  patrons  and  patronesses  I  am  largely 
indebted.  It  would  be  my  pride  to  enhance  their  pleasure.  Could  I,  in  return  for 
the  liberal  countenance  by  which  they  have  honored  me,  bestow  on  them  tranquil- 
lity with  every  attendant  blessing,  it  would  be  equally  my  duty  and  my  felicity' 
thus  to  do;  but  although  my  efforts  are  inadequate  to  any  important  effect,  I  can 
not,  however,  suppress  the  fervid  emotions  of  gratitude  with  which  my  breast  is 
replete.  The  most  ardent  wishes  for  their  happiness  are  wafted  warm  from  my 
heart. 

In  the  conclusion  of  the  work  she  gives  the  reason  why  she  assumed  a 
masculine  disguise  in  her  essays : 

Observing,  in  a  variety  of  instances,  the  indifference,  not  to  say  contempt, 
with  which  female  productions  are  regarded,  and  seeking  to  arrest  attention,  at 
least  for  a  time,  I  was  thus  furnished  with  a  very  powerful  motive  for  an  assump- 
tion which,  I  flattered  myself,  would  prove  favorable  to  my  aspiring  wishes.  Another 
strung  inducement  was  the  opportunity  it  afforded  me  of  making  myself  mistress  of 
the  unbiased  sentiments  of  my  associates.  A  few  persons  were  very  partial  to  my 
essays. 

We  conclude,  hy  the  list  of  distinguished  suhscrihers,  that  a  large  num- 
ber were.  Her  husband,  who  was  not  made  acquainted  with  the  secret, 
became  intensely  interested  in  the  essays  as  they  appeared  in  the  "Magazine," 
and  insisted  upon  reading  them  aloud,  but  Mrs.   Murray  adds:  — 

I  had  the  good  fortune  to  elude  his  penetration  until  my  thirty-third  article; 
when  in  that  I  gave  the  story  of  Eliza,  which  he  had  previously  given  to  me. 
he  a1   once  declared  his  conviction  that  I  was  the  real  author. 

After  seeing  the  above,  the  reader  would  draw  the  inference  that  she  had 
some  weakness  for  the  recognition  of  the  equality  of  the  sexes.  She  presents 
in  " T I n •  Gleaner  "  nearly  all  the  arguments  that  are  now,  a  century  later, 
employed  in  behalf  of  woman's  equality  with  man,  and  even  prophesies  her 
accession  to  suffrage  with  an  ability  that  the  most  brilliant  modern  writer 
and  speaker  can  not  surpass.  Mary  Woolstonecroft  never  has  had  a  more 
able  hi  eloquent  disciple  than  Mrs.  Murray  proves  herself  to  be  in  the  pager 
of  "The  Gleaner."     She  says: 

In  this  young  world  the  rights  of  woman  begin  to  be  understood;  we  seen;, 
at   length,  determined    to  do  justice  to  the   sex,  and  improving  on   the  opinions   of 


JUDITH    MURRAY.  7 

Woolstoneoroft,  we   are  ready   to   contend  tor   the    quantity  as   well    as  fhc   quality 
of  the  mind. 

And  if  evidence  proves  anything,  she  has  shown  that  the  female  mint! 
is  naturally  as  susceptible  of  every  improvement  as  the  mind  of  the  male. 
She  gives  many  brilliant  examples,  which  shone  forth  even  under  the 
oppression  and  ignorance  of  men  who  did  everything  to  "  clip  the  wings  of 
the  female  mind."  She  proves  veiy  conclusively  that  women  are  equal  in 
enduring  hardships,  "as  ingenious  and  fruitful  in  resources,"  "their  fortitude 
and  heroism  can  not  be  surpassed,"  "they  are  equally  brave  and  patriotic,"  "as 
influential,"  "as  eloquent,"  "as  faithful"  (which  no  one  doubts),  "as  capable  of 
supporting  with  honor  the  Government."  Every  point  she  accepts  for  discussion 
is  admirably  sustained.  She  proves  too  much  on  one  or  two  of  the  points, 
in  our  judgment.  To  establish  the  fortitude  and  heroism  of  women,  she 
instances  the  courage  of  the  Spartans,  and  tells  most  thrillingly  the  story  of 
the  Roman  Arria,  the  wife  of  the  Pateus,  whose  love  for  her  husband 
conquered  every  selfish  fiber  of  her  being,  and  is  an  illustrious  instance  of 
that  transcendent  elevation  of  which  the  female  mind  is  susceptible.  Quite 
unlike  the  Spartan  women  are  those  who,  as  Mrs.  Murray  says, — 

In  successful  combat,  have  shed  tears  of  joy  over  the  bleeding  bodies  of  their 
wounded  suns. 

But  true  womanly  heroism  is  not  all  confined  to  the  Greeks  and  Romans. 
The  reader  of  Mrs.  Murray's  life  would  not  fail  to  see  in  her  tender,  careful 
and  affectionate  watching  of  the  beloved  husband,  paralyzed  for  six  long  years. 
heroism,  fortitude,  patience,  and  endurance,  which  sit  more  gracefully — yes, 
and  divinely — upon  a  Christian  woman  than  a  host  of  Spartans  could  display. 
Read  her  description  of  Justice,  which  is  unique  and  grand : 

Were  I  to  personify  Justice,  instead  of  presenting  her  blind  I  would  denomi- 
nate her  the  goddess  of  Are;  she  should  possess  a  subtle  essence,  which  should 
penetrate  through,  and  pervade  the  inmost  recesses  of  the  soul:  by  every  insignia 
of  li^ht  I  would  surround  and  designate  her:  while  among  the  ornaments  winch 
composed  her  crest,  a  broad  and  never-closing  eye  should  stand  conspicuous;  she 
should  possess  the  power  to  unravel  the  knotty  entanglements  of  the  most  sophis- 
ticated   web;    piercing   as    the  forked   lightning,  instantan s   and    penetrating,  she 

should  disclose  at    a  single   glance   the   secret  and   crooked    windings  of    the    most 
profound  labyrinth,   while    patient    and   unerring  she  should   listen    with  calmness  to 


8  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

the  various  disquisitions  of  the  interested  claimant;  and,  careful  to  investigate,  her 
decisions  should  always  accord  with  her  own  important  nature  and  office.  Uniform 
in  her  awards,  neither  youth,  beauty  nor  innocence  should  possess  a  charm  to  soften 
her  linn  inflexibility;  dignity,  age,  the  venerable  head  of  snow,  these  should  not  awe; 
adversity  should  not  excite  an  improper  compassion,  nor  should  the  tears  of  the 
widow  or  the  orphan  unduly  persuade.  Of  unbending  integrity.  Justice  should  feel, 
hear  and  see,  but  truth  alone  should  be  the  polar  star  by  which  she  should  shape 
her  movements,  and  equity  only  should  constrain  her  determinations.  To  the  rav- 
ages of  wayward  passions  she  should  be  at  all  times  superior;  and  her  administra- 
tions should  be  under  the  regulation  of  wisdom.  Elevated  beings  are  dishonored 
by  supposition  that  they  can  possibly  be  influenced  by  improper  or  foreign  repre- 
sentation, and  my  delineation  of  Justice,  armed  at  all  points,  should  be  inaccessible 
even  to  the  suspicion  of  imbecility. 

In  his  biographical  sketch,  Mr.  Eddy  says:  "A  very  interesting  series 
of  letters  written  by  Mrs.  Murray  to  her  parents  while  she  was  on  a  visit  with 
her  husband  to  Philadelphia,  in  1790,  is  preserved.  They  are  of  value  as 
furnishing  us  with  the  names  of  some  of  the  most  eminent  Universalist  lay- 
men of  that  day,  and  as  indicating  the  respect  shown  to  Mr.  Murray  by  noted 
public  men  of  that  period. 

"They  went  to  Philadelphia  to  assist  in  organizing  a  convention  of  the 
Universalists  of  the  United  States, — the  first  attempt  in  our  history  at  a  gen- 
eral organization — the  '  association  '  formed  at  Oxford,  Mass.,  in  1785,  being 
purely  local  in  its  aim,  and  temporary  in  its  purpose,  and  holding  no  session 
after  1787.  The  Philadelphia  convention  assembled  May  25th,  and  con- 
tinued till  June  8th,  the  longest  time  ever  given  by  our  people  to  convention 
purposes. 

"At  that  time  the  prospects  of  Universalism  in  Philadelphia  were  most 
flattering.  Christopher  Marshall,  the  family  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  Dr.  Wil- 
liam Smith,  President  of  the  University,  and  several  of  the  professors  in  that 
institution,  and  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush,  are  among  those  named  by  Mrs.  Murray 
as  favoring  the  doctrine,  and  attendants  on  her  husband's  preaching.  'The 
sentiments  of  the  Universalists,'  she  writes,  'are  growing  every  day  more  and 
more  respectable  in  this  city.  The  family  of  Dr.  Franklin  is  among  the 
foremost  of  their  favorers.  Mrs.  Bache,  the  doctor's  daughter,  says  it  was 
her  father's  opinion  that  no  system  in  the  Christian  world  was  so  elfectually 
calculated  to  promote  the  interests  of  society  as  that  doctrine  which  shows  a 
God  reconciling  the  lapsed  world  to  himself.'     Of  Dr.  Benjamin  Rush  Mrs. 


JUDITH    MUBBAY.  9 

Murray  says  in  the  same  letter:  'Dr.  Rush  is  a  man  of  sense  and  letters. 
He  is  well  known  in  the  medical  and  literary  world.  I  am  happy  that  I  can 
name  Dr.  Rush  as  an  open, avowed  professor  of,  and  ornament  to  the  religion 
of  Jesus.  Addressing  Mr.  Murray  this  morning  with  much  candor,  he  thus 
expressed  himself-  Why,  my  dear  sir,  you  have  stood  much  alone.  How 
have  you  buffeted  the  storm'?  What  a  torrent  of  prejudice,  tradition,  mal- 
evolence and  calumny  have  you  had  to  encounter!  Twenty  years  ago  I  heard 
your  name, — you  were  preaching  in  Bachelor's  Hall.  No  consideration  would 
have  induced  me  to  come  within  a  mile  of  the  place,  and  had  I  met  you  I 
should  not  have  conceived  it  could  have  been  you,  except  I  had  found  you 
with  the  cloven  foot  and  with  horns!  But  now  peaceful  to  myself  is  the  re- 
volution. The  Bible  is  a  consistent  book,  and  everything  that  is  excellent  it 
contains.'  " 

Mr.  Eddy's  account  continues:  "Like  many  literary  women,  Mrs.  Murray 
was  an  admirer  of  the  drama,  and  'The  Gleaner'  contained  two  plays  writ- 
ten by  her, — one,  '  The  Traveler  Returned,'  being  full  of  the  patriotic  spirit 
of  the  Revolution,  and  of  stirring  incidents  of  the  war  for  Independence.  The 
other  is  more  sentimental  in  its  character,  and  was  entitled  '  Virtue  Tri- 
umphant.' Both  were  produced  on  the  stage  of  the  Boston  Theater,  the 
former  in  1795,  and  the  latter,  under  the  name  of  'The  Medium,'  in  1796. 
They  were  critically  noticed  in  the  papers  of  the  day,  both  in  the  way  of 
attack  and  defence,  the  author  being  at  that  time  unknown,  and  were,  on  the 
whole,  highly  commended.  They  display  ability,  and  no  little  skill  in  plot, 
but  it  may  be  said  that  the  author's  genius  is  not  so  manifest  in  them  as  it 
is  in  her  essays,  many  of  which  are  of  superior  merit.  Her  fame  as  a  writer 
crossed  the  Atlantic,  and  arrangements  were  entered  into  for  the  republica- 
tion of  '  The  Gleaner'  in  London,  but  the  death  of  Rev.  Mr.  Redding,  who 
had  the  matter  in  charge,  prevented  the  consummation. 

'\Mrs.  Murray  survived  her  husband  about  five  years,  her  death  occur- 
ring at  the  residence  of  her  daughter,  Mrs.  Bingaman,  near  Natchez,  Miss., 
June  6,  1820.  Her  last  thoughts  were  of  the  deserving  poor  widows 
in  her  native  town,  to  whom  she  left  a  generous  bequest.  None  of  her 
descendants  are  now  living;  but  may  we  not  hope  that  the  Universalist 
women  of  America  will  gratefully  cherish  her  memory?" 


10  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Mr.  Eddy  closes  his  article  in  the  "Quarterly"  thus:  "  Mrs.  Murray  had 
two  children;  a  son  who  died  in  infancy,  in  1789,  and  a  daughter,  Julia 
Maria,  born  in  August,  1791,  and  married  in  1812  to  Adam  Lewis  Bingarnan, 
of  Natchez,  Miss.  Their  marriage  took  place  the  evening  of  the  day 
that  Mr.  Bingaman  graduated  from  Harvard  College.  After  their  daughter's 
marriage,  Mrs.  Murray  arranged  and  supervised  the  publication  of  her  hus- 
band's sermons  and  letters,  he  having  been  an  invalid  since  1809.  After  his 
death  she  published  his  memoir,  written  by  himself  to  1774,  and  brought 
down  by  her  till  the  close  of  his  life.  She  then  took  up  her  abode  with  her 
daughter,  at  Natchez,  where  she  died  June  6,  1820.  At  her  death  she  left 
a  large  and  valuable  collection  of  manuscripts,  including  her  husband's  dia- 
ries, covering  nearly  the  entire  period  of  his  residence  in  America ;  his  cor- 
respondence ;  many  of  her  own  unpublished  essays,  poems  and  other  papers ; 
and  a  large  number  of  letters  from  General  and  Mrs.  Washington,  General 
Nathaniel  Greene  and  his  widow,  and  many  other  illustrious  persons.  These 
papers,  Mrs.  Worcester,  above  referred  to,  informed  the  writer,  were  stored  in 
an  unoccupied  house  on  her  son-in-law's-  plantation,  and  when  an  effort  was 
made  to  remove  them  a  few  years  afterward,  they  were  found  to  be  utterly 
rotted  and  spoiled  by  the  mildew." 

We  have  only  space  left  for  the  following  extract,  which  illustrates  the 
literary  style  and  the  sentiments  of  Mrs.  Murray. 

,  Toward  the  close  of  the  month  which  closeth  our  year,  the  Savior  was  born. 
So  In  the  last  day  of  time,  when  the  divine  arrangements  are  well  near  completed,  the 
restitution  of  all  things  shall  be  made  manifest,  and  the  winding  up  of  the  great 
drama,  bringing  forward  the  accomplishment  of  the  design  of  an  all-wise  Creator. 
'rimes  of  every  kind  shall  be  banished  from  the  family  of  man.  The  train  of  ill 
which  has  infested  the  works  of  the  Eternal  Mind,  shall  accompany  their  origin: 
and  sin  being  annihilated,  sorrow  shall  be  no  more. 

Evangelical  month!  Again  I  repeat  it.  Surely  I  will  love  thy  days,  O  Decem- 
ber, and  the  event  produced  under  thy  domain  shall  ever  be  right  precious  to  my 
soul! 

The  doctrine  of  guardian  seraphs,  this  also  makes  a  part  of  my  creed.  Some 
bright  celestial  was  commissioned  at  my  birth  to  preside  over  my  infantile  years, 
and  to  continue  the  attenclanl  of  my  mortal  career.  During  the  hour  which  shall 
terminate  my  present  mode  of  being,  he  will  be  busy  round  the  bed  of  death,  and 
he  will  gratulate,  with  ineffable  transport,  the  liberated  spirit. 


LUCY    BAliNES.  H 


LUCY     BARNES, 

Eldest  daughter  of  Rev.  Thomas  Barnes,  was  born  in  Jaffrey,  New 
Hampshire,  March  6,  1780.  When  a  child  she  was  sweet  in  disposition, 
gentle  in  deportment,  but  very  undemonstrative,  unless  an  opportunity  pre- 
sented itself  by  which  she  could  serve  some  one,  or  reconcile  contending 
parties;  "and  then,"  says  the  "Christian  Intelligencer"  of  1825,  "she  would 
wear  a  smile  of  complacency  and  satisfaction  that  was  beautiful  and  heavenly." 
Her  opportunities  for  an  education  were  veiy  limited,  but  she  was  an 
omnivorous  reader,  and  could  repeat  what  she  read  as  easily  as  most  could 
repeat  the  chit-chat  of  an  afternoon. 

Lucy  made  no  creed  profession  until  she  was  nineteen  years  old.  At 
about  that  time  her  father  removed  to  Poland,  Maine,  at  which  place  a 
frantic  "reformation"  was  going  on.  She  attended  the  meetings,  and  gave 
all  the  arguments  and  all  the  warnings  a  most  careful  and  respectful  con- 
sideration; "for,"  she  said,  "if  their  explanations  are  correct,  and  this  sin- 
gular work  is  sanctioned  by  divine  authority,  I  am  perfectly  wilhng  and  ready 
to  embrace  Methodism."  She  was  always  interested  in  religious  discussions, 
and  read  the  Bible  with  great  interest,  but  now  she  read  verse  by  verse,  and 
conscientiously  considered  the  import  of  every  word ;  but  the  more  she  read 
the  more  clearly  she  saw  the  fallacy  of  the  popular  explanations,  and  the 
more  truthful  seemed  the  doctrine  that  she  ever  after  lived  by,  and  at  last 
died  believing. 

As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  Lucy  had  openly  proclaimed  that  she 
could  not  put  bounds  to  the  love  of  God,  and  announced  her  belief  in  the 
doctrine  of  God's  universal  goodness  to  his  children,  and  in  the  salvation 
of  all,  crowds  visited  her  for  the  purpose  of  either  driving  or  persuading 
her  from  that  "anchor  of  the  soul  which  is  both  sure  and  steadfast."  Lucy 
had  a  peculiar  aptitude  for  logical  reasoning,  and  presented  her  points  so 
persuasively,  and  in  so  amiable  and  loving  a  manner,  that  the  most  intelli- 
gent became  convinced  that  her  "weapons  were  not  carnal  but  mighty,"  and 
were  generous  enough  to  say  she  was  a  "real  Christian,"  even  if  she  had 
embraced  the  awful  doctrine  of    universal  salvation.     She  had  not  prayed 


12  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

over  the  Scriptures  for  comfort  alone,  but  for  knowledge  also,  and  in  receiv- 
ing the  one  the  other  was  added. 

Her  father  did  not  disturb  her  travail  of 'soul,  but,  when  she  came  out 
of  the  mist  into  the  light  of  God's  truth,  he  fell  upon  his  knees  and  gave 
thanks. 

Lucy's  wish  to  do  good  seemed  to  blossom  afresh  after  the  true  mean- 
ing of  the  Scriptures  had  been  revealed  to  her.  She  was  constantly  trying 
to  impress  upon  the  young  the  principles  of  morality,  and  their  duty  to  live 
true  Christian  lives.  In  her  conversation  at  all  times,  in  her  written 
addresses  or  short  sermons,  it  was  her  constant  aim  to  influence  for  good. 

Soon  after  her  death  some  of  her  letters,  dissertations  and  poems  were 
collected  and  printed  in  a  pamphlet  of  71  pages,  entitled  "The  Female 
Christian."  I  have  used  every  effort  to  secure  one  of  the  books,  but  it  has 
been  impossible.  I  find  in  the  "Gospel  Banner,"  of  1858,  a  review  of  the 
pamphlet  by  Eev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  D.  D.,  then  editor;  but  the  book  has  been 
misplaced.  I  have  no  doubt,  however,  that  he  then  gave  the  quotations  that 
would  be  most  satisfactory  now.  This  is  the  first  book  I  have  been  able 
to  find  written  by.  a  woman  in  defense  of  Universalism. 

Dr.  Hanson  says, — "The  passages  from  the  letters,  verse  and  prose  of 
the  fair,  frail  hand  that  has  for  fifty  years  been  cold  can  not  fail  to  be  read  with 
interest."  I  will  quote  generously,  to  show  "how  an  unlearned  maiden 
could  speak  of  the  faith  we  cherish,  in  the  early  dawn  of  the  light  we  now 
enjoy." 

In  a  letter  to  "a  friend  who  could  not  believe  in  the  final  holiness  and 
happiness  of  all  mankind,"  she  proves  that  she  held  her  faith  understand- 
ingly: 

The  Scriptures  declare  thcit  God  is  love;  that  ho  is  a  good  Being:  that  ho  is 
no  respecter  "f  persons,  but  is  good  to  all,  and  that  he  has  all  power  in  his  own 
hand,  and  worketh  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  will.  All  nature,  likewise. 
proclaims  aloud  this  blessed  and  divine  truth,  and  also  bespeaks  his  wisdom  to 
!>'■  infinite.  He  kindly  condescends  to  call  us  his  children,  and  permits  us  to 
address  hi  in  by  'lie  endearing  appellation  of  Father.  Is  it  possible  that  so  good, 
so  kind  and  loving  a  Father  can  punish  his  tender  and  beloved  offspring  with  the 
mosl  exquisite  misery,  to  the  endless  ages  of  eternity,  for  their  disobedience  to 
him,  and  even  for  the  most  trivial  faults'.''  Can  it  be  supposed  that  so  wise  and 
powerful  a  Being    is    under  the    necessity    of    punishing    with    endless    misery,  in 


LUCY    BARNES. 


13 


order  to  secure  th<-  peace  and  honor  of  his  government?  If  the  infinite  goodness 
of  our  Heavenly  Father  is  sufficient  to  inspire  him  with  a  wish  to  make  all  his 
children  perfectly  and  eternally  holy  and  happy,  is  not  his  infinite  wisdom  sufficient 
to  form  a  plan  for  the  completion  of  his  wishes?  and  his  infinite  power  sufficient 
to  execute  that  divine  purpose,  that  he  might  not  be  eternally  disappointed  and 
frustrated   in  so  benevolent   a  wish? 

I  suppose  you  are  now  ready  to  tell  me  it  is  time  to  drop  this  subject,  and 
to  speak  of  the  justice,  severity  and  vengeance  of  our  Heavenly  Father,  and  to 
consider  his  righl  and  ids  power  to  punish  us  as  he  pleases.  But  I  do  not  dispute 
his  power  nor  his  right  to  punish  the  disobedient  with  endless  misery,  but  it  is 
his  will  or  inclination  to  do  it  which  I  dispute.  Neither  do  I  think,  there  i>  a 
single  passage  of  Scripture  which  represents  a  state  of  endless  woe,  though  I 
know  the  chastisements  of  the  Almighty  are  very  seven — "vengeance  is  mine,  I 
will  repay,  saith  the  Lord"— and  the  curses  and  judgments  threatened  against  the 
disobedient  are  great  indeed;  therefore  it  behooves  us  all  to  be  good  and  obedient 
children,  lest  they  fall  upon  us.  For  I  do  not  think  it  is  inconsistent  with  the 
divine  love  of  our  Universal  Parent  to  chastise  the  transgressors  of  his  law  suf- 
ficiently to  subdue  their  hardened  hearts  and  stubborn  will,  and  to  subject  them 
to  his  holy  government.  But  can  justice  require  more?  Certainly  not.  But,  on 
tin'  contrary,  whatever  punishment  is  inflicted,  after  they  are  completely  humbled 
and  subdued,  in  my  estimation  may  justly  be  termed  cruelty  and  revenge.  And 
shall  we  presume  to  impute  those  hateful  passions  to  the  Almighty  which  he  him- 
self has  taught  us  to  despise  in  each  other,  and  which  we  absolutely  abhor  even  in  a 
savage,  who  is  not  contented  merely  with  the  death  of  his  enemy,  but  puts  him 
to  the  most  cruel  death  which  malice  and  revenge  can  possibly  invent,  roasting 
him  alive  in  such  a  moderate  manner  as  to  prolong  his  life  and  misery  to  the 
utmost  extent  of  his  power?  But  what  is  that  when  compared  with  endless  misery? 
You  are  a  mother,  and  doubtless  possessed  of  as  tender  feelings  as  ever  warmed 
the  heart  of  a  parent,  and  were  I  to  say  that  you  could  with  pleasure  behold  your 
children  punished  with  such  exquisite  misery,  even  for  an  age,  you  would  think 
that  I  was  either  beside  myself  or  entertained  a  most  unjust  opinion  of  you.  But 
if  you  could  not  endure  the  sight  but  for  one  age.  what  reason  have  you  to  sup- 
pose that  the  tenderest,  most  loving  and  best  of  Fathers  could  endure  the 
shocking  scene  to  the  endless  a^'es  of  eternity?  But  perhaps  you  will  say  that 
those  who  are  to  suffer  thus  are  not  the  offspring  of  God,  but  the  children  of  the 
devil.  I  know  the  wicked  on  account  of  their  disobedience  are  called  the  children 
of  the  wicked  one;  hut  if  they  are  so  in  reality,  we  can  not  reasonably  expect 
they  will  !»'  punished  so  severely  for  being  too  obedient  to  their  father.  Satan,  as 
children  are  in  duty  bound  to  honor  and  obey  their  parents,  even  by  a  command 
from  the  -real  Eternal  himself.  Tt  is  said  that  sinners  justly  merit  endless  pun- 
ishment, because  they  sin  against  an  infinite  law.  etc.  Hut  surely  the  Almighty 
knew,  before  he  created  them,  that  they  would  sin  against  him,  and  likewise  what 
punishment  they  would  merit.  Then  was  ii  an  act  of  love,  justice  or  wisdom  in 
him  to  force    into    an    existence    millions    of    human    beings,   whom    he    absolutely 

knew   would  transgress   his   law,   and  thereby   incur   his   displeasure,    and    n --hate 

him  to  make  them  eternally  miserable?  Had  he  provided  a  thousand  Saviors  for 
them,  and  given  them  a  thousand  times  better  chance  to  escape  thai  dreadful 
place  of  misery,  what  would  it  avail  them?  For  is  it  possible  for  them  to  avoid 
what  the  all-wise  God  absolutely   knows  will  happen  to  them?     Now.  if  a  Being  of 


14  OUB    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

infinite  love,  justice  and  tender  mercy,  and  a  kind,  benevolent  Father  could  do  such 
a  thing,  is  it  possible  for  us  to  conceive  what  a  being  of  infinite  hatred  and  revenge 
would  do?  It  is  believed  by  many  that  the  parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus 
is  a  real  description  of  heaven  and  hell,  and  that  it  evidently  sets  forth  the 
misery  of  those  who  are  damned,  roasting  in  flames  of  fire,  and  begging  for 
water,  even  for  one  drop  to  mitigate  their  sufferings,  while  those  in  heaven  must 
incessantly  behold  their  distress,  and  hear  their  groans  and  cries  and  dreadful 
lamentations  to  all  eternity  without  having  the  power  to  relieve  them.  If  that  is 
really  the  case,  what  person  is  there  who  possesses  any  real  love  for  his  fellow 
creatures,  who  would  not  much  rather  be  annihilated,  and  be  as  though  he  never 
had  been,  than  go  to  such  a  heaven! 

What  would  avail  to  rue  the  joys    of   heaven, 
And  all  the  splendor  of  the  golden  coast, 
If  I  must  know  millions  of  human  souls 
In  misery  groan,    and   are  forever  lost  ? 

But  I  can  not  believe  that  such  a  place  of  misery  ever  did  exist,  or  ever  will. 
until  there  is  a  change  wrought  in  the  Almighty  himself,  and  we  behold  the  great 
wheel  of  nature  rolling  backward.  We  are  told  that  when  we  go  to  heaven  we 
shall  there  behold  the  justice  of  God  so  plainly  in  the  eternal  condemnation  of  the 
ungodly  that  we  shall  finally  rejoice  in  their  misery;  if  so,  why  are  not  the 
saints  here  on  earth  now  rejoicing  in  it,  who  profess  to  be  born  of  the  spirit  of 
the  ever-living  and  true  God,  and  to  know  their  Master's  will  and  to  obey  it? 
and  who  fancy  they  have  met  with  all  the  change  they  ever  shall  see,  as  they 
suppose  no  one  will  ever  be  changed  after  death;  but  surely  they  must  meet  with 
a  much  greater  change  than  they  ever  yet  have  experienced,  to  endure,  much 
more  to  behold  with  pleasure,  such  a  shocking  scene  to  all  eternity.  Various 
indeed  are  all  the  arguments  which  might  be  produced  from  Scripture,  as  well  as 
reason,  to  prove  the  final  restitution  of  all  mankind  to  their  former  state  of 
purity  and  holiness,  since  the  Lord  hath  spoken  of  it  by  the  mouth  of  all  his  holy 
prophets  since  the  world  began. 

I  will  quote  verbatim  from  the  "Christian  Intelligencer,"  of  1825,  sent  me 
by  S.  H.  Colesworthy,  of  Portland,  Maine,  publisher  of  her  father's  memoir: 
"Miss  Barnes  from  infancy  had  in  warm  weather  been  sorely  afflicted  with 
asthma,  but  for  several  years  before  her  death  the  complaint  became  more 
severe  and  alarming.  Though  the  distress  and  pressure  at  the  lungs  were 
frequently  so  great  that  she  seemed  to  be  in  the  agonies  of  death,  the  first 
language  she  uttered  would  be  intended  to  console  and  comfort  her  parents. 
Her  individual  hope  in  Christ,  and  her  faith  in  the  universal  salvation, 
remained  firm  and  unwavering  to  the  last,  and  even  in  the  dread  strag- 
gles of  expiring  nature  the  smile  of  heavenly  serenity  was  visible  on  her 
countenance,  evincing  a  willingness  to  sleep  in  death,  that  she  might  rest  in 
God." 


LUCY    BAltNES.  15 

Never  did  a  respectful  and  loving  child  enter  upon  a  journey  to  visit  her 
absent  parents  with  more  alacrity  than  Lucy  Barnes  resigned  herself  into 
the  hands  of  a  merciful  God,  to  be  transported  to  "that  country  from  whose 
bourne  no  traveler  returns."     In  writing  to  an  old  lady  who  had  recently 

been  brought  into  the  light  of  the  glorious  truth,  she  says : 

t 

1  know  the  punishments  of  the  Almighty  for  sin  and  wickedness  are  very 
severe;  but  although  our  heavenly  Father  visits  our  transgressions  with  a  rod  and 
our  iniquities  with  stripes,  yet  St.  Paul  tells  us  "He  doth  not  (as  our  earthly 
parents  have  done)  chasten  us  after  his  own  pleasure,  but  for  our  profit,  that  we 
may  be  partakers  of  his  holiness." 

With  regard  to  rny  health,  it  is  very  low  indeed.  I  am  not  able  to  walk  out 
of  my  room,  nor  to  sit  up  but  a  few  moments  at  a  time,  so  that  I  have  been 
many  days  in  writing  these  lines;  but  although  they  are  penned  by  a  feeble  hand, 
yet,  through  the  grace  of  God,  they  proceed  from  a  heart  strong  in  faith,  though 
on  the  verge  of  eternity. 

I  will  give  a  short  quotation  from  the  last  written  exhortation  of  Miss 
Barnes,  finished  only  the  day  before  she  died : 

Let  us,  therefore,  be  humble,  and  endeavor  to  pursue  the  paths  of  peace,  and 
to  walk  in  the  straight  and  narrow  way.  And  whenever  we  discover  any  going 
on  in  vice  and  wickedness,  and  walking  in  the  broad  road  in  search  of  happiness, 
let  us  pity  their  weakness  and  folly,  and  mistaken  ideas  of  bliss,  and  endeavor,  if 
possible,  to  restore  them  in  the  spirit  of  meekness,  "considering  ourselves  lest  we 
also  be  tempted."  Fur  if  we  had  their  temptations,  we  might  perhaps  do  equally 
as  bad  or  even  worse  than  they.  May  every  blessing  attend  you  which  can  con- 
tribute in  the  least  both  to  your  temporal  and  spiritual  welfare.  May  the  God  of 
peace  be  with  you  always;  may  you  be  patient  in  tribulation,  remembering  that 
whom  the  Lord  loveth  he  chasteneth,  and  thai  these  afflictions  which  are  sent  for 
our  profit  are  but  short,  but  the  joys  which  will  soon  dawn  upon  us  are  of  an 
endless  duration. 

I  can  think  of  nothing  more  sublime  than  such  meekness  and  patience 
from  one  who  had  struggled  for  months  for  eveiy  breath  which  sustained 
life. 

The  writer  in  the  old  paper  remarks, — "Though  the  style  is  not 
ornamented  with  the  tinsel  of  rhetoric,  it  is  enriched  with  all  the 
unstudied  fervor,  gravity,  and  resignation  which  woidd  be  requisite  to  a 
chapter  of  an  inspired  volume." 

This  beautiful  woman — beautiful  mentally,  physically  and  spiritually — 


16  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

went  to  rest  on  the  29th  of  August,  1809,  in  the  twenty-ninth  year  of  her 
age. 

She  not  only  inherited  the  great  independence  of  her  father,  hut,  as  did 
all  of  the  daughters  of  that  revered  man,  those  wonderful  Madonna  eyes, 
which  could  preach  sermons,  render  sympathy,  and  plead  with  others  to 
come  up  higher,  without  uttering  a  word. 

Miss  Barnes  was  a  diligent  student  of  the  Bihle,  and  was  able  to  state 
logically  the  careful  deductions  of  her  studious  hours.  The  reader  will  not 
often  find  a  document  more  pointed,  clear  and  unanswerable  than  the  follow- 
ing, written  by  a  girl  of  twenty-nine,  seventy-five  years  ago : 

SERIOUS   AND  IMPORTANT  QUESTIONS  ANSWERED  FROM  THE  HOLY    SCRIPTURES. 

Q.     What  is  the  will  of  God  with   regard  to  mankind ? 

A.  That  all  men  should  be  saved,  and  come  unto'  the  knowledge  of  the 
truth;  and  having  made  known  unto  us  the  mystery  of  his  will  according  to  his 
good  pleasure,  which  he  hath  purposed  in  himself,  that  in  the  dispensation  of  the 
fullness  of  times  he  might  gather  together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ,  both  which 
are  in  heaven  and  which  are  on  earth,    even  in  him. 

Q.     Can  the  will  of  God  be  frustrated? 

A.  No.  For  there  is  no  power  but  of  God;  the  powers  that  be  are  ordained 
of  God.  All  nations  before  him  are  as  nothing;  and  they  are  counted  to  him  less 
than  nothing,  and  vanity.  He  hath  measured  the  waters  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand,  and  meted  out  heaven  with  the  span,  and  comprehended  the  dust  of  the 
earth  in  a  measure,  and  weighed  the  mountains  in  scales  and  the  hills  in  a  bal- 
ance. He  therefore  worketh  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will.  He  doeth 
according  to  his  will  in  the  army  of  heaven  and  among  the  inhabitants  of  the 
earth,  and  none  can  stay  his  hand,  or  say  unto  him,  What  doest  thou? 

Q.     For  what  purpose  did  God  send  his  only    begotten    Son    into    the    world? 

A.  God  sent  his  Sou  to  be  the  Savior  of  the  world,  to  destroy  the  works  of 
the  devil,  and  to  save  that  which  was  lost:  to  finish  transgression  and  make  an 
end  of  sin,  and  through  death  to  destroy  him  that  had  the  power  of  death,  that 
is  the  devil,  and  to  give  eternal  life  to    as    many    as    the    Lord    hath    given     him. 

Q.     How  many  hath  the  Lord  given  him? 

A.  The  Father  loveth  the  Son,  and  hath  given  all  things  into  his  hand;  he 
hath  given  him  power  over  all  flesh.  He  hath  said  unto  him.  Thou  art  my  Son; 
this  day  have  I  begotten  thee.  Ask  of  me  and  I  shall  give  thee  the  heathen  for 
thine  inheritance,  and  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  earth  for  thy  possession.  He 
shall  have  dominion  also  from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  river  unto  the  ends  of  the 
earth.     Yea.   all     kings    shall    fall    down    before    him:     all     nations    shall   serve    him. 

y.     What  is  eternal  life'' 

A.  This  is  life  eternal,  to  know  thee,  the  only  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ 
whom    thou    hast    sent. 

Q.       Will    all    mankind    1"-    hie,-,!    with    tin-    knowledge    of   God? 

A.  Fes.  For  they  shall  not  teach  every  man  his  neighbor  and  every  man 
his  brother,   saying,  EnOW   tin'    Lord,   for   all   shall    know   him   from   the     least     to    the 


LUCY   BARNES.  17 

greatest;  for  I  will  b<-  merciful  to  their  unrighteousness,  and  their  sins  and  iniqui- 
ties will  I  remember  no  more. 

Q.  But  Christ  saith,  Ye  will  not  come  unto  mo  that  ye  might  have  life;  and 
will  they,  even  all,  come  ami  receive  eternal  life  in  him? 

A.  Yes.  All  that  the  Father  giveth  shall  come  to  me;  and  him  that 
cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise  cast  out     For  I  came  down  from  heaven  not  to  do 

mine  own  will,  but  the  will  of  him  that  sent  me;  and  this  is  the  Father's  will 
which  hath  scut  me,  that  of  all  which  he  hath  given  me  I  should  lose  nothing, 
bul    should   raise   it    up   again   at   the   last   day. 

Q.     Can  any  one  enjoy  the  kingdom  of   God  except    he  is  horn  again? 

A.  No.  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  except  a  man  he  born  again,  he  can 
not  see  the  kingdom  of  God. 

Q.     What  is  the  new  birth? 

A.  Being  born  into  the  glorious  liberty  and  spirit  of  the  Gospel,  turned  from 
darkness  to  light,  and  from  the  power  of   Satan  unto  God. 

Q.     Will  all  mankind  be  blest  with  the  new  birth? 

A.  Yes.  For  in  this  mountain  shall  the  Lord  of  hosts  make  unto  all  people  a 
feast  of  fat  things,  a  feast'  of  wine  on  the  lees,  of  fat  things,  full  of  marrow,  of  wine 
on  the  lees,  well  refined.  And  he  will  destroy  in  this  mountain  the  face  of  the  cover- 
ing cast  over  all  people,  and  the  veil  that  is  spread  over  all  nations.  And  all  the 
ends  of  the  world  shall  remember  and  turn  unto  the  Lord,  and  all  the  kindreds  of  the 
nations  shall  worship  before  thee. 

Q.  But  will  not  some  remain  in  a  state  of  misery  to  cry  and  groan  to  all 
eternity? 

A.  No.  For  the  Lord  God  will  wipe  away  all  tears  from  off  all  faces;  and  the 
rebuke  of  the  people  shall  he  take  away  from  off  all  the  earth,  for  the  Lord  hath 
spoken  it. 

Q.     And  when  will  this  lie  accomplished? 

A.  When  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord  shall  return  and  come  to  Zion  with  songs, 
ami  everlasting  joy  upon  their  heads;  they  shall  obtain  joy  and  gladness,  and  sorrow 
and  sighing  shall  flee  away. 

(,).     Who  are  the  ransomed  of  the  Lord? 

A.  All  mankind.  For  there  is  one  God,  and  one  Mediator  between  God  and 
men.  the  man  Christ  Jesus,  who  gave  himself  a  ransom  for  all,  to  be  testified  in  due 
time. 

Q.  But  will  not  some  be  punished  with  endless  or  eternal  death,  for  their  diso- 
bedience to  the  commands  of  God? 

A.  No.  For  th«'  Lord  will  swallow  up  death  in  victory.  The  hist  enemy  that 
shall  be  destroyed  is  death. 

Q.     When  will  death  be  swallowed  up  in  victory? 

A.  'When  this  corruptible  shall  have  put  on  incorruption,  and  this  mortal  shall 
have  put  on  immortality,  then  shall  lie  broughl  to  pass  the  saying  that  is  written. 
Heath  is  swallowed  up  in  victory.  0  death!  where  is  thy  sting?  0  gravel  where 
is   thy  victory? 

Q.  "Will  imt  some  remain  in  a  state  of  enmity  against  God,  and  in  opposition 
lo_his  will  and  government,  ami  blaspheme  his  holy  name,  to  all  eternity? 

A.  No.  For  thus  saith  the  Lord.  I  have  sworn  by  myself,  the  word  is  gone 
out  of  my  mouth  in  righteousness  and  shall  not  return,  that  unto  me  every  knee 
shall  bow,  every  tongue  shall  swear,  surely  shall  one    say,  In   the  Lord  have    I  right- 


18  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

eousness  and  strength.  And  thus  saith  St.  John  the  divine,  every  creature  which  is  in 
heaven,  and  on  earth,  and  such  as  are  in  the  sea,  and  all  that  are  in  them,  heard  I 
saying,  Blessing  and  honor,  and  glory  and  power,  be  unto  him  that  sitteth  upon  the 
throne,  and  to  the  Lamb,  forever  and  ever. 

Q.      Will  all  these  promises  ever  be  fulfilled? 

A.  Yes.  For  God  is  not  a  man,  that  he  should  lie,  neither  is  he  the  son  of 
man,  that  he  should  repent.  Hath  he  said,  and  shall  he  not  do  it?  Hath  he  spoken 
and  shall  he  not  make  it  good? 

Q.  Will  not  the  unbelief  of  some  exclude  them  forever  from  the  enjoyment  of 
these  promises? 

A.  No.  For  what  if  some  did  not  believe?  Shall  their  unbelief  make  the  faith 
of  God  without  effect?  God  forbid!  Yea,  let  God  be  true  but  every  man  a  liar. 
For  God  hath  concluded  them  all  in  unbelief  that  he  might  have  mercy  upon  all. 

Q.  The  Scripture  saith  the  wages  of  sin  is  death,  and  that  death  is  passed  upon 
all  men.  for  that  all  have  sinned;  and  will  not  the  greater  part  of  mankind  remain  in 
this  state  of  sin  and  death  to  all  eternity? 

A.  No.  For  in  this  seed  (which  is  Christ)  shall  all  the  families  of  the  earth  be 
blessed;  therefore  as  by  the  offence  of  one  judgment  came  upon  all  men  unto  con- 
demnation, even  so  by  the  righteousness  of  one  the  free  gift  came  upon  all  men  unto 
justification  of  life;  and  as  in  Adam  all  die,  even  so  in  Christ  shall  all  be  made  alive. 


LEVISA    BUCK. 

Eev.  Thomas  Barnes  was  the  father  of  eight  children,  all  from  their 
earliest  youth  exhibiting  remarkable  literary  talent.  Lucy,  of  whom  the  pre- 
ceding sketch  gives  an  account,  and  Sally,  with  the  subject  of  this  sketch, 
were  among  the  ablest  women  of  their  times.  Levisa  wrote  much  beside  the 
life  of  her  father,  which  is  simply  and  modestly  written.  The  work  is  a 
small  12mo.  of  105  pages,  entitled  "Memoir  of  the  Rev.  Thomas  Barnes, 
written  and  compiled  by  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Levisa  Buck,  and  edited  by  Rev. 
George  Bates,  Portland;  S.  H.  Colesworthy,  publisher,  1856."  Mr.  Barnes 
whs  born  in  Merrimack,  N.  H.,  Oct.  4,  1749,  and  died  in  Poland,  Me.,  Oct. 
3,  1810.  She  also  performed  the  incredible  labor  of  versifying  Job  and 
Psalms,  with  the  thought  that  they  might  be  read  by  those  who  would  not 
read  flic  originals. 

It  has  been  a  great  task  to  collect  the  few  facts  I  am  able  to  present 
concerning  these  noble  women,  who  stood  in  the  front  ranks  when  our  friends 


LEVIS  A    1HJCK.  19 

were  few,  and  who  were  in  their  quiet  way  a  tower  of  strength  to  our  clergy 
in  those  darksome  days.  They  were  all  so  unconscious  of  themselves  that 
they  always  left  themselves  entirely  out  of  their  work. 

Levisa  was  not  an  educated  woman,  hut  she  had  that  "low,  sweet  voice 
which  is  an  excellent  thing  in  woman,"  the  first  note  of  which  quieted  and 
charmed  every  one  within  hearing.  She  talked  neither  slowly  nor  rapidly, 
but  her  words  were  as  the  dropping  of  honey  from  the  honeycomb.  She 
delighted  in  reading  the  Scriptures,  and  when  she  read  aloud,  to  the  lovers 
of  poetry  they  became  poems,  and  to  the  lovers  of  history  they  seemed  to  be 
living  realities.  She  resembled  her  sisters  in  personal  appearance.  Mrs.  A. 
M.  Pulsifer,  of  Auburn,  Me.,  writes:  "Being  an  enthusiastic  worker  in  the 
church,  she  used  often  to  travel  long  distances  on  horse-back,  as  was  the 
fashion  of  those  times,  to  attend  meetings  in  the  surrounding  districts, 
carrying  with  her  in  cold  weather  her  little  foot-stove,  for  the  meetings  were 
held  in  rough,  cold  buildings,  with  often  no  means  of  heating  them,  and 
the  people  who  attended  could  keep  from  suffering,  in  the  cold  season,  only 
by  means  of  warm  clothing  and  foot-stoves.  She  gladly  assisted  the  sick 
and  needy,  and  was  ready  to  give  help  at  any  call.  She  kept  herbs  and 
simple  remedies  always  at  hand,  which  she  freely  dispensed  to  the  sick,  often 
nursing  them  back  to  health  or  quieting  their  last  sufferings  to  the  best  of 
her  ability.  She  was  a  woman  of  vigorous  intellect.  Her  children,  I  under- 
stand, are  all  intellectual;  two  are  lawyers  in  California;  a  daughter,  in  Bos- 
ton, was  married  to  Hon.  S.  B.  Shaw,  deceased." 

Tbe  following  passage  is  a  brief  extract  from  the  memoir  of  her  father, 
who  was  the  first  Universalist  minister  ordained  in  Maine,  Jan.  6,  1802 : 

At  the  age  of  thirty-four  we  find  him  the  father  of  seven  children,  and 
situated  in  the  town  of  JafTrey,  N.  II.  It  was  from  this  place  that  he  went  to 
hear  tin-  Rev.  Caleb  Rich,  preacher  <>f  universal  salvation. 

Mr.  Barnes  was  one  of  those  benevolent  Christians  who  could  not  rejoice  in 
view  of  the  hopeless  prospect  of  the  supposed  finally  impenitent,  however  his 
creed  might  lead  him  to  expect  he  should  in  a  holier  state  of  existence.  There- 
fore, after  hearing  Mr.  Rich,  and  candidly  weighing  his  arguments,  he  was  led  to 
conclude  that  God  might  be  more  merciful  than  Ins  doctrine  had  taught  him  to 
suppose.  It  was  pleasant  to  his  mind  and  delightful  to  his  throbbing  heart  to 
follow  the  first  dawn  of  divine  light  on  a  subject  of  such  thrilling  interest  to  every 
human  being.  He  began  to  wish,  and  shortly  after  to  hope,  that  the  doctrine  ct 
impartial   grace   was   true;     it   had   enlisted   the   holiest    sympathies   of  his   nature;    )*• 


20  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

had  touched  a  tender  chord  in  his  soul,  and,  if  true,  would  fill  him  with  all 
joy  and  peace  in  believing.  He  did  not  nourish  a  spirit  of  vindictive  wrath 
against  the  new  doctrine,  nor  against  its  advocate  in  the  person  of  Mr.  Rich. 
He,  therefore,  concluded  to  go  the  second  Sunday  to  hear  the  glad  tidings  of  a 
world's  salvation.  His  wife  expostulated  with  him  with  much  earnestness  on  the 
impropriety  of  his  attending  that  meeting  again,  but  he  replied  that  he  much 
desired  to  go  once  more,  that  he  might  prove  all  things,  and  hold  fast  to  that 
which  is  good.  And  thus  were  the  remonstrances  made  by  his  excellent  wife 
attended  by  the  same  reply  for  several  succeeding  Sabbaths.  In  the  course  of  the 
week,  Mr.  Barnes  would  relate  to  her  the  arguments  he  had  heard  in  support 
of  the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  until  Mrs.  B.  was  fearful  her  husband  would 
become  a  believer  in  what  she  then  thought  so  fatal  an  error.  One  day  she 
urged  him,  with  much  feeling,  to  hear  Mr.  Rich  no  more.  Mr.  Barnes  made  but 
little  reply  to  her  request,  but  said,  when  leaving  her— "Can  my  dear  Mary  set 
bounds  to  the  love  of  God?"  She  imagined  she  could;  at  least  she  would  try. 
God  could  not  love  sinners.  But  had  she  not  herself  been  a  sinner,  and  did  she 
not  now  believe  herself  a  partaker  of  the  love  of  God?  And  was  he  not  unchange- 
able? The  supposed  non-elect  passed  before  her  imagination,  and  the  promises 
of  God.  Was  it  possible  they  could  be  impartially  applied  to  all  mankind?  At 
length  she  found  it  impossible  to  set  bounds  to  the  love  of  God.  The  more  she 
tried,  the  more  she  found  his  love  overleaping  every  barrier,  until  it  overcame  all 
sin  and  death;  for  infinite  love  can  not  be  bounded  by  a  finite  being.  We  can 
not  help  remarking  here  that  if  all  Christians  would  endeavor  to  study  the  bound- 
less love  of  Jehovah,  rather  than  "limiting  the  Holy  One  of  Israel,"  it  would  be 
far  better  for  the  cause  of  virtue  and  religion  in  the  world,  and  the  more  surely 
would  the  happiness  of  mankind  be  secured.  On  her  husband's  return,  Mrs. 
Barnes  communicated  to  him  her  unsuccessful  efforts  to  set  bounds  to  the  love  of 
God,  and  of  her  hopes  in  a  world's  redemption;  and  after  a  prayerful  examination 
of  the  Holy  Scriptures,  they  both  openly  avowed  themselves  Universalists. 

Let  us  imagine  ourselves  on  the  solid  earth  in  plain  view  of  a  noble  ship, 
freighted  with  human  beings,  contending  with  the  wind  and  waves.  We  are 
expecting  every  moment  to  see  hundreds  sink  from  our  view  forever.  And  then 
let  us  behold  a  pilot  as  he  goes  to  their  relief;  let  us  see  him  bring  every  one 
on  shore,  not  leaving  a  single  soul  to  perish,  as  a  manifestation  of  his  sovereign 
will  and  pleasure;  let  us  hear  the  shouts  of  joy  and  the  hymns  of  thanksgiving  as 
they  float  upon  the  air  from  the  tongues  of  those  who  have  been  rescued  from  a 
watery  grave,  and  who  now  have  the  blissful  prospect  of  greeting  their  wives, 
their  Little  ones  and  their  parents.  Sueh  a  scene  might  give  us  a  fair  conception  of 
the  joy  in  the  transition  from  the  torments  of  the  doctrine  of  endless  sin  and 
sorrow  to  the  glorious  certainty  that  all  mankind  shall  be  safely  landed  on  the 
"Other  side  Of  Jordan."  This  heart-cheering  truth  was  truly  refreshing  to  Mr. 
Barnes  and  his  wife;  they  were  eminently  qualified  for  its  enjoyment;  their  whole 
souls  went  with  its  doctrinal  sentiment;  they  now  found  their  sympathy  and  love 
flowing  to  their  whole  race,  and  they  fully  believed  the  Lord  was  good  to  all  his 
works.  This  faith  was  nourished,  strengthened  and  confirmed  by  a  careful  perusal 
of  the  word  of  life,  until  they  were  both  "strong  in  the  Lord,  and  in  the  power 
of   his   might." 


SALLY    DUNN.  21 


SALLY   DUNN 

Was  the  youngest  of  the  remarkable  daughters  of  Kev.  Thomas  Barnes, 
and  was  horn  in  Woodstock,  Conn.,  in  the  year  1783.  She  was  the  ablest 
woman  advocate  of  our  faith,  of  her  times,  and  a  royal  mother  in  Israel. 
Rev.  A.  Dinsmore,  who  married  one  of  her  daughters,  and  from  whom  I  get 
many  facts,  says:  "The  first  time  I  ever  saw  her  was  at  a  convention,  in 
1827,  at  Livermore,  Maine,  and  my  attention  was  particularly  drawn  to  her 
on  account  of  her  majestic  appearance,  rapt  manner,  and  the  earnest  atten- 
tion she  was  giving  to  the  speaker,  who  was  the  lamented  Russel  Streeter. 
As  soon  as  the  meeting  was  dismissed  I  saw  at  once  by  the  affectionate  title 
by  which  she  was  called  by  old  and  young,  clergy  and  laymen,  'Mother 
Dunn,'  that  she  was  a  favorite  among  the  people."  There  was  no  woman 
in  all  that  region  more  widely  known  and  respected,  and  her  influence  in 
establishing  our  church  was  as  great  in  Maine  at  that  time  as  that  of  any  of 
our  ministers.  She  was  what  would  be  called  an  evangelist.  To  have 
called  her  a  preacher  would  have  disquieted  her  more  than  anything  else,  for 
she  especially  felt  that  one  should  be  called  to  preach  the  Gospel,  although 
she  would  sometimes  make  a  conference  talk  that  woidd  fill  every  heart  with 
yeanlings  for  the  better  life,  and  sometimes  fill  every  eye  with  tears. 

Her  education  was  slender  in  her  youth,  but  Mr.  Dinsmore  says, — "She 
never  forgot  any  knowledge  once  acquired,  and  being  of  a  studious  habit, 
and  having  a  purely  literary  taste  and  a  great  love  for  the  Scriptures,  she 
was  continually  adding  the  right  kind  of  material  to  her  mind."  Early  in 
her  youth  she  took  to  her  heart  her  father's  religious  views,  and  through 
life  was  a  distinguished  advocate  of  them.  Her  addresses,  or  sermons,  as  I 
urast  call  them,  were  highly  appreciated  by  the  educated  of  the  day.  "Her 
insight  into  and  mastery  of  the  Scriptures  were  truly  remarkable,  and  her 
clear,  easy  and  graceful  manner  of  explaining  difficult  texts  was  a  wonder 
and  a  delight  to  our  people,"  and,  others  have  said,  a  fear  almost  amount- 
ing to  nightmare  to  the  more  intelligent  of  the  darker  faith,  for  she  made 
the  dry  bones  of  Orthodoxy  rattle.  Josiah  Dunn,  the  husband,  was  a  gentle- 
man of  much  force  of  character  and  high  moral  tone,  nor  was  he  at  all  behind 


22  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

his  -wife  in  clear,  intelligent  apprehension  and  approval  of  Universalism,  but  he 
could  not  use  heart  and  brain  to  the  same  advantage,  and  make  the  people 
see  and  feel  what  he  saw  and  felt,  as  did  his  noble  wife. 

In  appearance  Mrs.  Dunn  was  a  queenly  Quaker,  and  one  friend  said  of 
her, — "As  a  hostess  she  was  charming.  At  my  coming,  in  her  extended  hand 
I  always  felt  her  heart  throbs."  Knowing  this,  no  one  can  be  surprised 
that  their  home  was  the  rendezvous  of  clergy,  philanthropists,  and  literary 
people. 

Mrs.  Dunn  became  the  mother  of  thirteen  children,  five  sons  and  eight 
daughters,  of  whom  two  sons  and  the  youngest  daughter  are  now  living, 
viz : — Hon.  E.  B.  Dunn,  of  Waterville,  Me.,  aged  seventy-nine;  Hon.  Sebastian 
Streeter  Dunn,  formerly  a  Representative  in  the  Massachusetts  Legislature, 
but  now  living  in  Dakota,  and  Mrs.  N.  C.  Clifford,  of  Monmouth,  Me.  They 
all  took  honorable  positions  in  society,  and  reverenced  her  memory  with 
sweet  and  tender  recollections. 

I  think  it  will  not  be  out  of  place  to  speak  of  this  lady's  looks,  and  to 
relate  a  pleasant  little  anecdote  concerning  her.  She  was  very  handsome ; 
her  eyes  were  a  changeable  dark  brown,  filled  with  liquid  light,  that  some- 
times were  so  happy  in  their  expression  that  she  had  the  appearance  of  look- 
ing far  away  from  this  world  of  mortality  upon  fields  of  immortal  glory,  and 
then  again,  whenever  she  heard  an  argument  made  in  favor  of  "Orthodoxy," 
it  woidd  bring  the  expression  of  her  beautiful  eyes  back  to  this  world,  and 
fill  them  with  pity  and  beneficence,  and  she  woidd  look  as  though  she  would 
if  she  coidd  take  all  the  wandering  ones  into  her  own  arms,  and  cleanse  and 
save  them.  Is  it  any  wonder  that  she  should  have  crept  into  the  hearts  of 
the  people?  Add  to  these  eyes  a  clear  complexion  tinged  with  red,  a 
remarkable  feature  of  hers  late  in  life,  and  auburn  hair,  and  a  mouth  by 
which  one  could  read  her  feelings,  and  a  winning  voice,  and  we  have  her  like- 
ness as  it  has  been  given  to  me. 

When  she  was  about  seventeen  she  accompanied  her  father  on  one  of 
his  appointments,  and  there  met  a  gentleman  not  of  our  faith,  but  one  who 
had  a  heart  that  could  appreciate  such  a  woman  as  she.  They  met  as 
strangers,  but,  before  she  and  her  father  had  departed,  the  gentleman  offered 
her  his  heart  and  hand.      The  dear  girl,  with   some   confusion,  rose    and 


SALLY    DUNN.  28 

extended  her  hand,  saying:  "I  wish  you  had  not  spoken,  yet  I  thank  you, 
but  I  would  rather  go  home  with  my  father."  On  their  way  home,  to  the 
question  of  her  father,  "What  did  you  tell  him,  Sally?"  she  repeated:  "I 
told  him  I  would  rather  go  home  with  you."  "Oil  and  water  will  not  mix," 
the  good  father  said,  "and  I  rather  expect  you  thought  his  hell  and  your 
heaven  would  not  get  on  well  together."  "I  should  want  to  be  sure,  first, 
that  I  could  turn  his  hell  into  my  heaven,"  was  her  reply. 

After  the  most  of  this  sketch  was  in  type  I  received  the  following  from 
Mrs.  A.  M.  Pulsifer,  the  great  grand-daughter  of  Mrs.  Dunn:  "At  a  semi- 
centennial of  the  Elm-street  church,  Auburn,  Me.,  in  response  to  a 
toast,  Kev.  G.  W.  Quinby,  D.D.,  related  the  following  anecdote:  'I 
preached  my  first  sermon  in  Poland,  forenoon  and  afternoon;  for,  in  those 
days,  a  minister  who  didn't  preach  twice  on  Sunday  was  no  minister 
at  all.  My  knees  knocked  together  with  anxiety,  and  I  noticed  that  in  my 
congregation  was  Mrs.  Dunn,  a  notable  woman,  who  could  preach  as  good 
a  sermon  in  ten  minutes  as  most  ministers  could  in  an  hour.  I  knew  she 
\v;is  a  great  critic,  and  I  went  to  one  of  the  brethren  and  told  him  I  was  dis- 
couraged— I  didn't  know  as  I  could  preach  my  first  semion  before  such  a 
critic.  'Now,  don't  be  exercised,'  said  my  friend;  'I'll  give  yoii  a  good  clue 
to  her  opinion.  If,  when  you  are  preaching,  she  takes  out  her  snuff- box 
and  takes  a  pinch  of  snuff,  you  may  be  sure  she  is  pleased  with  the  sermon. 
It  will  be  all  right.'  I  preached  universal  salvation.  I  remember  the  text 
and  the  hue  of  thought  just  as  well  as  I  do  what  happened  yesterday.  I  kept 
my  eyes  on  Mrs.  Dunn.  Pretty  soon  out  she  fished  her  snuff-box,  and  took 
two  of  the  longest  pinches  of  snuff  a  woman  ever  took  in  this  world,  and 
then  cried  out  'Amen.'  I  never  thanked  God  for  anything  more  heartily. 
I  have  preached  against  tobacco  and  snuff,  but  always  with  a  mental  reser- 
vation in  favor  of  those  two  pinches.  No  pinch  of  snuff  ever  encouraged  a 
man  like  that.     It  took  all  the  knock  out  of  my  knees.'  " 

The  "Gospel Banner" relates:  "Rev.  T.  B.  Thayer,  D.D.,  exclaimed,  after 
having  listened  to  her  for  the  first  time,  at  a  convention  in  Saco,  twenty 
years  ago:  'Tell  me,  who  is  that  woman!  She  has  unfolded  more  of  the 
Gospel  in  ten  minutes  than  any  minister  here  can  in  a  whole  sermon!'  She 
inherited  the  characteristics  of  her  father,  but  unquestionably  excelled  him 
in  her  clearness  of  perception  and  logical  deductions.     Her  method  was  more 


24  OUK    WOMAN    W011KEBS. 

nearly  akin  to  that  of  Eev.  Hosea  ('Father')  Ballou  than  of  any  person  we 
ever  listened  to.  The  Bible  was  her  delight.  She  read  it  and  comprehended 
its  teachings,  and  at  that  time,  when  aU  sects  were  so  generally  intent  on 
bringing  our  cause  into  disrepute,  she  deemed  it  her  duty  to  embrace  every 
opportunity  that  presented  itself  to  speak  in  its  defense.  But  few  clergymen 
of  the  opposing  sects,  who  called  on  her  for  the  purpose  of  'convincing  her 
of  her  error,'  would  venture  'to  call'  a  second  time,  notwithstanding  their 
positive  promise  to  do  so." 

This  remarkable  woman  died  in  1858,  aged  sixty-five  years.      We  regret 
that  persistent  inquiries  have  produced  no  more  than  this  brief  sketch. 


SALLY  McKINSTRY 

Was  the  daughter  of  Captain  Abner  Hammond,  who  was  one  of  the 
founders  of  our  church  in  Hudson,  N.  Y.  She  was  bom  in  1798.  As  a 
child  she  was  peculiar,  thoughtful  beyond  her  years,  especiaUy  considerate 
toward  old  people,  and  she  ever  showed  great  satisfaction  if  she  could  be  of 
any  service  to  them.  The  first  act  of  charity  that  is  remembered  of  this 
noble  woman  was  enacted  in  her  childhood,  and  is  characteristic.  One  day, 
when  very  young,  she  was  walking  in  the  street  with  her  father,  when  they 
met  a  httle  girl  whose  dress  was  so  tattered  and  torn  that  it  could  hardly  be 
called  a  dress.  The  young  philanthropist  looked  after  her  for  a  httle  while, 
white  and  eager-eyed,  and  then,  placing  her  hand  upon  her  heart,  she  said 
to  her  father, — "That  little  girl  makes  me  ache  here,"  and  in  a  moment  flew 
after  the  poor,  distressed  little  one.  Her  father  saw  her  unbutton  her  apron, 
and  heard  the  words, — "Never  mind,  I  have  more,"  and  in  another  moment 
she  was  by  her  father's  side,  and  with  her  face  bathed  in  tears,  she  said, — 
"God  is  good  to  some,  sure;  but  why  can  he  not  be  so  to  ah?"  The  father 
replied, — "His  ways  are  wonderful,  and  past  finding  out,  oftentimes,  but  this 
morning  it  is  very  plain  that  he  sent  the  poor  unfortunate  to  touch  the  heart 
of  my  little  daughter  to  deeds  of  charity."  From  that  time  on  to  her  death 
this  Universalist  sister  of  charity  was  on  the  qui  vive  to  ameliorate  the  suffer- 


SAU.Y     M,  KINSTHY.  25 

• 

ings  of  others,  and  as  the  poor  learned  this  in  after  years,  she  was  obliged 
to  devote  not  only  her  days  to  their  relief,  but  oftentimes  her  nights. 

Hon.  Robert  McKinstry,  to  whom  she  was  married  in  early  life,  seconded 
and  assisted  her  in  all  her  charities.  He  was  a  gentleman  of  wealth,  high 
social  standing  and  influence,  and  mayor  of  the  city  for  some  years,  lie  was 
a  genuine  Universalist  and  a  staunch  friend  to  our  church.  In  his  will  he 
bequeathed  $20,000  to  the  First  Universalist  Church  of  Hudson,  N.  Y.  The 
home  of  the  McKinstrys  was  a  most  comfortable  mansion,  but  it  very  soon 
became  altogether  too  small  for  the  great  numbers  of  poor  unfortunates  who 
relied  on  Mrs.  McKinstry  for  all  the  necessities  of  life,  and  who  were  received 
into  it  as  welcome  inmates  until  another  home  was  founded  for  them.  Indeed, 
so  manv  resorted  to  her  that  she  was  obliged  to  rent  rooms  outside  to  accom- 
modate them.  Previous  to  this,  however,  she  kept  a  reception-room  in  her 
own  home  for  the  poor.  One  day  a  friend  from  out  the  city  called  to  see  her, 
and  hearing  the  babel  of  voices,  asked  of  one  of  the  kinswomen  the  occasion, 
and  Aunt  Becca,  whose  heart  was  also  filled  with  love  for  such,  replied, — 
"They  are  Sally's  Arabs."  Of  these  "Arabs"  Mrs.  McKinstry  took  the  entire 
care,  thus  realizing  the  dream  of  her  childhood  of  doing  for  others. 

How  to  systematize  her  work,  that  she  might  be  able  to  do  most,  was 
her  great  anxiety,  and  in  considering  this  question  the  thought  of  the  Orphan 
Asylum,  which  has  reflected  so  much  honor  on  the  city  of  Hudson,  was  bom. 
Many  feared  it  was  a  Quixotic  idea,  but  her  father,  understanding  his  daugh- 
ter's foresight,  sagacity,  and  perseverance,  was  so  sure  of  its  success  that  he 
cheerfully  co-operated  with  her  by  giving  a  suitable  site  for  the  building. 
She  immediately  began  to  solicit  .funds.  The  history  of  her  county  says, — 
"It  ever  after  absorbed  and  controlled  her  entire  energies,  becoming  her  para- 
mount and  ruling  passion,  till  the  work  was  completed,  in  1850." 

Men  of  means  were  most  earnestly  besought  to  assist,  and  few  turned 
deaf  ears,  and  she  always  put  the  most  charitable  construction  upon  the 
refusal  of  such  as  declined  to  render  assistance. 

The  history  of  the  county  where  Mrs.  McKinstry  lived,  says, — "She 
sought  information  in  all  directions,  wrote  articles,  presented  the  subject 
before  public  meetings,  sent  committees  to  the  legislature,  and  indeed  never 
faltered    until    her   effort    was  crowned    with    success  and   the   asylum    W' 


26  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

erected,  and  its  permanent  continuance  provided  for.  She  was  immediately, 
by  general  consent,  chosen  chief  directress  of  the  institution,  an  office  she 
held  and  the  duties  of  which  she  discharged  with  singular  capacity  and 
devotedness  during  the  rest  of  her  life." 

She  had  great  influence  with  the  politicians,  and  always  had  friends  of 
the  asylum  at  Albany,  during  the  legislative  sessions,  at  work  for  appropria- 
tions. It  was  well  known  that  any  man  who  wanted  office  kept  on  the  right 
side  of  "Aunt  Sally,"  which  was  easily  done  by  aiding  the  Orphan  Asylum. 
She  was  undoubtedly  the  most  influential  citizen  of  Hudson.  Eev.  L.  C. 
Browne,  who  was  her  pastor  at  one  time,  says, — "She  had  great  influence 
among  the  women  of  the  city,  in  securing  coadjutors.  Old  and  young,  high 
and  low,  were  at  her  service.  She  knew  what  was  going  on  in  the  homes  of 
the  poor,  and,  wherever  there  was  want  or  brutality  to  women  or  children, 
over  such  places  she  kept  close  scrutiny,  and  the  appearance  of  her  earnest, 
kindly  face  in  the  doorway  of  an  Irish  hovel,  in  either  case  would  bring  joy 
to  the  face  of  the  abused  and  shame  to  the  face  of  the  brute ;  and  there  were 
many  of  that  class,  could  they  have  had  their  own  way,  who  would  have  can- 
onized her,  Catholic  or  no  Catholic." 

Her  obituary  says :  "  The  life  of  this  remarkable  woman  will  probably 
never  be  written,  except  upon  the  records  of  heaven.  The  writer  of  this 
would  gladly  have  entered  upon  the  pleasing  task  of  giving  her  biography  to 
the  world,  but  soon  discovered  that  it  would  be  impossible  to  bring  to  light  a 
life  so  full  of  faith,  so  full  of  private  benevolence,  so  bound  up  in  secret, 
stealthy  deeds  of  kindness,  love  and  mercy;  and  that  very  many  of  these 
were  so  delicately  connected  with  the  secret  happiness  and  the  heartstrings 
of  living  parents  and  children  that  it  would  be  wrong  to  publish  them  dur- 
ing the  present  generation.  Besides  this,  to  do  anything  like  justice  to  her 
memory  one  must  collect  from  all  over  the  face  of  this  country  those  thou- 
sands of  letters,  written  by  her  own  hand  and  by  her  dictation,  which  alone 
would  form  a  monument  to  her  praise,  and  teach  such  a  lesson  of  self-sacrifice 
and  Christ-like  devotion  as  the  world  has  rarely  witnessed.  No  one  can  read 
her  appeals  for  aid,  her  more  than  motherly  counsels  to  her  scattered  and 
apprenticed  orphans,  1km-  forgiving  and  imploring  appeals  to  the  wayward 
and   vicious  whom  all  others  had  abandoned,  without  feeling,  as  the  writer 


SALLY    McKINKTEY.  27 

of  this  has  often  felt  and  expressed,  that  God's  grace  had  made  of  her  a  won- 
derful woman.  Mrs.  McKinstry  had  no  prejudices  that  even  the  most  inti- 
mate coidd  discover.  Her  charity  was  unbounded.  In  her  severest  disap- 
pointments she  blamed  no  one — always  had  an  apology  for  the  most  selfish 
refusal,  and  a  word  of  praise  for  the  smallest  aid  to  her  pet  lambs.  She 
seemed  to  know  nothing  of  Christian  sectarianism,  but  called  around  her  all 
who  would  do  good,  of  whatever  name,  sect,  or  nation.  The  excellent  ladies 
that  were  associated  with  her  in  the  management  of  the  Orphan  Asylum  will 
bear  witness  to  the  truthfulness  of  all  that  is  here  written.  The  mantle  that 
fell  as  she  ascended  no  one  will  be  willing  to  put  on.  The  many  deeds  that 
her  love  and  patriotism,  her  faith  and  prayers  enabled  her  to  perform, 
scarcely  any  three  would  be  willing  to  undertake.  These  ladies  will  under- 
take and  fully  perform  all  that  the  best  interests  of  the  asylum  require. 
They  will  endeavor  to  find  out  the  many  precious  channels  through  which 
her  unseen  benevolence  flowed,  and  to  fill  them;  and  every  week  they  will  dis- 
cover some  new  evidence  of  the  patience,  power,  and  perseverance  of  that 
feeble,  faithful  woman." 

Mrs.  McKinstry  was  very  handsome  in  early  life,  and  she  coidd  have 
been  a  leader  in  fashion,  for  she  inherited  quite  a  fortune,  but  instead  of 
adorning  her  person  with  finery,  she  dressed  very  economically,  and  spent  all 
in  benevolence,  even  foregoing  the  pleasure  of  traveling,  for  twenty-five 
years  never  leaving  the  city. 

Some  of  the  boys  of  her  asylum  rose  to  positions  of  honor,  which  gave 
her  great  pride  and  satisfaction.  One  of  them  was  a  member  of  the  New 
York  legislature  at  the  session  of  1853.  Rev.  L.  C.  Browne  relates  that  the 
gentleman  came  to  Hudson  and  passed  a  Sunday  while  he  (Mr.  Browne) 
was  boarding  at  Mrs.  McKinstry's.  "Aunt  Sally"  was  very  happy,  and  took 
great  delight  in  introducing  him  to  friends  and  callers  at  the  house. 

All  over  the  country  there  are  those  who  have  been  saved  from  the 
oppression  of  poverty  by  her,  and,  better  still,  from  ill-spent  lives.  She  had 
no  children  of  her  own,  by  birth,  to  "rise  up  and  call  her  blessed,"  but  there 
are  scores  of  the  world's  children  who  venerate  every  letter  of  her  name. 
God  seems  to  have  made  her  childless  that  she  might  be  a  mother  to  many 
of  his  poor,  and   she  certainly  inherited  as  few  have  done,  the  blessing,— 


28  OUR    WOMAN   WORKERS. 

"Inasmuch  as  ye  have  done  it  to  the  least  of  these,  ye  have  done  it  unto  me." 
Is  it  any  wonder  that  the  good  people  of  Hudson  are  not  only  proud  of  the 
memory  of  such  a  woman,  but  worship  her  for  her  manifestation  of  that 
charity  which  is  greatest  of  all? 

Although  a  firm  believer  in  our  ennobling  faith,  and  ever  ready  to  assist 
in  its  promulgation  by  encouraging  and  giving,  she  seldom  attended  church. 
Her  health,  which  was  very  delicate,  she  sacredly  expended  in  the  work  to 
which  she  had  consecrated  her  hfe.  She  had  great  regard  for  the  members 
of  our  clergy,  and  one  day  when  she  was  extolling  their  virtues,  a  friend  said, — 
"Aunt  Sally,  why  do  you  not  attend  church  more?"  She  replied, — "My 
strength  is  all  needed  in  my  work  for  the  Lord's  poor,  and  as  he  has  called 
such  noble  men  into  his  vineyard,  and  entrusted  to  them  the  teachings  of  his 
life,  I  am  content  to  leave  the  work  with  them,  and  to  such  as  you.  to  help 
them.     Women  must  not  be  idle. " 

Amanda  F.,  wife  of  Rev.  Gamaliel  Collins,  writes:  "I  first  met  Mrs. 
McKinstry  in  the  Fall  of  18-4G.  It  was  at  the  end  of  a  wearisome  day's 
journey.  The  street  lamps  were  already  lighted,  as  we  drove  rapidly  from  the 
depot,  stopping  before  a  spacious  mansion  ablaze  with  light.  We  were 
received  by  Mr.  McKinstry  with  a  stateliness  and  dignity  that,  feeling  home- 
sick as  I  did,  being  the  first  time  I  had  left  my  New  England  home,  chilled 
me.  I  had  not  then  learned  what  a  warm,  generous  nature  lay  hidden 
beneath  that  cold  exterior.  The  family  were. at  supper.  Mrs.  McKinstry 
soon  appeared,  and  her  cordial  greeting  made  me  feel  at  home  at  once.  She 
was  dressed  in  a  faded  black  and  white  calico,  made  in  the  style  of  what  we 
women  call  a  loose  wrapper,  fastened  at  the  waist  with  a  belt.  Her  head  was 
tied  up  with  an  abundance  of  cotton  batting,  she  having  had  an  attack  of 
neuralgia  the  night  before.  Her  cap  was  awry,  her  hair  disheveled ;  yet,  not- 
withstanding  all  this,  she  looked  a  very  handsome  woman.  Her  figure, 
though  a  little  given  to  embonpoint,  was  trim,  and  her  dark  grey  eyes,  pure 
complexion,  fresh  white  teeth,  and  classic  features  are  indelibly  impressed 
upon  my  memory.  She  had  not  expected  us  quite  so  soon,  and  our  room 
was  not  ready,  and  that  evening  a  large  party  was  to  be  given  in  honor  of  a 
yotmg  bride  and  groom,  who  had  just  come  there  to  board;  the  relatives  from 
out  of  town  were  already  arriving;  an  extra  supper  had  to  be  prepared,  and 


SALLY    McKINSTRY.  29 

to  crown  all  a  gentleman  anil  lady  called  at  that  moment  to  have  a  conver- 
sation about  a  little  girl  they  had  recently  adopted  from  the  Orphan  Asylum. 
"During  the  week  that  elapsed  while  awaiting  the  arrival  of  our  furnituri  , 
1  had  many  opportunities  of  learning  the  past  history  of  this  remarkable 
woman,  and  of  the  routine  of  her  daily  life.  Fearing  I  might  be  lonely,  she 
kindly  offered  me  a  seat  in  her  own  room;  and  to  sit  in  'Aunt  Sally's'  room, 
as  she  was  affectionately  called  by  a  large  circle  of  friends  and  acquaintances, 
and  witness  daily  the  living  panorama  of  all  sorts  of  people  on  all  sorts  of 
errands,  was  an  event  in  one's  hfe  not  soon  to  be  forgotten.  While  every 
other  part  of  the  house  was  attended  to  and  kept  in  perfect  order  and  neat- 
ness, in  this  room,  only,  disorder  and  discomfort  reigned  supreme.  She  who 
never  turned  away  the  poorest  beggars,  or  refused  to  minister  To  their  needs, 
seldom  had  a  moment  to  think  of  her  own  wants;  indeed,  I  do  not  think  it  ever 
occurred  to  her  that  she  had  any.  To  recall  this  room  is  to  remember  a 
comfortless  bed,  folded  away  in  the  daytime  into  a  pine  wardrobe;  an  old 
settee  covered  with  faded  calico;  a  few  chairs,  a  stove,  a  square  table  in  the 
corner  with  an  accumulation  of  books,  papers  and  writing  materials, — for  the 
moments  she  could  snatch  from  other  duties  were  devoted  to  a  voluminous 
correspondence,  consisting  mainly  in  ajmeals  for  aid  for  her  Orphan  Asylum. 
To  found  this  home  for  the  orphan  had  been  her  dream  from  early  woman- 
hood; and,  at  this  time,  a  plain  structure  recently  erected,  and  which  shel- 
tered from  thirty  to  forty  little  children,  was  the  fruition  of  the  hopes  and 
efforts  of  many,  many  years.  To  realize  this  dream,  she  who  was  the  child 
of  wealthy  parents  and  the  wife  of  a  successful  business  man,  had  dressed 
herself  in  cheap  calico;  had  denied  herself  the  commonest  luxuries,  even  the 
comforts  of  life;  had  been  willing  to  take  upon  herself  the  charge  of  a  large 
and  fashionable  boarding-house.  'For,'  as  she  said  to  me,  '1  could  not  have 
the  face  to  call  on  Mr.  Mac  for  all  the  aid  1  require,  and  by  keeping  up  this 
establishment  1  can  feed  and  help,  somewhat,  all  who  come  to  me  for  assist- 
ance.' This  was  true;  and  hourly  the  applicants  came.  They  were  always 
welcome.  No  matter  how  ragged  or  dirty  the  beggar-child,  his  hand  was 
kindly  taken  in  hers,  his  needs  inquired  into,  and  when  sent  to  the  kitchen 
it  was  with  a  message  to  the  cook  to  furnish  the  food  he  required.  Nor  were 
ihe  children  the  only  recipients  of  her  bounty.     The  poor  and  afflicted  of  all 


30  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ages  and  all  conditions  sought  her  presence  for  sympathy  and  assistance. 
Servant  girls  in  want  of  places  found  with  her  a  temporary  home,  till,  at 
last,  her  house  became  a  sort  of  incipient  intelligence  office,  and  I,  with 
many  others,  often  found  it  convenient  to  apply  to  Mrs.  McKinstry  when  a 
new  servant  was  wanted. 

"Only  once  did  I  know  of  Mrs.  McKinstry  leaving  her  home  during  the 
six  years  I  resided  in  Hudson,  except  to  visit  the  Orphan  Asylum,  her  parents 
and  sister,  who  lived  directly  opposite,  and  a  few  indigent  families  in  her 
immediate  neighborhood.  I  never  knew  her  to  treat  herself  to  a  drive,  or  any 
amusement  whatever.  The  one  exception  was  an  unexpected  visit  paid  to 
myself.  I  had  often  jestingly  invited  her  to  take  tea  with  me,  never  suppos- 
ing, knowing  her  habits,  that  she  would  do  so.  Much  to  my  delight  and  sur- 
prise she  walked  in  one  day,  attired  in  a  fresh  cap  and  an  old  black  silk,  the 
only  dress  she  possessed  except  calico,  and  never  indulged  in  except  on  Com- 
mittee days.  I  will  here  say  a  number  of  ladies  connected  with  the  asylum 
held  a  meeting  once  a  month  at  Mrs.  McKinstry's  house,  at  which  she  pre- 
sided. She  laughingly  told  me  she  had  come  to  take  that  cup  of  tea  with  me. 
I  had  to  prepare  it  early,  for  she  became  anxious  as  night  drew  on,  and  I 
found  her  nervously  pacing  the  back  piazza  when  I  came  to  announce  that  it 
was  ready.     I  considered  the  visit  a  great  compliment,  and  told  her  so. 

"Mrs.  McKinstry  was  thoroughly  imbued  with  the  spirit  and  belief  of 
Universalism.  She  was  ever  interested  in  all  that  pertained  to  church  affairs. 
Her  house  was  the  temporary  abiding-place  of  all  stray  ministers,  as  well  as 
the  place  of  rest  and  cheer  of  the  resident  clergyman  and  his  family.  It  was 
our  privilege  to  pass  the  last  weeks  of  our  stay  in  Hudson  in  her  hospitable 
home,  and  to  make  it  our  headquarters  in  our  subsequent  visits  to  that  city. 
A  few  weeks  after  her  decease  I  crossed  the  threshold  of  her  late  residence  for 
the  last  time.  A  beloved  and  competent  relative  had  succeeded  to  the  charge 
of  affairs.  Except  the  stream  of  besieging  beggars  everything  was  going  on 
as  usual.  Busy  life  prevailed,  and  the  broad  halls  still  echoed  to  the  tread  of 
many  feet.  But  for  me  the  house  was  silent  and  void ;  its  inspiration  was 
gone;  the  charm  of  her  presence  had  departed  forever. 

"1  next,  proceeded  to  pay  a  visit  to  an  upper  room  across  the  street, 
where  resided   Mother  Jenison  and  her  widowed  sister,  who  for  a  long  time 


SARAH    JifvOUGHTON.  31 

had  been  Mrs.  McKinstry's  pensioners.  With  streaming  eyes  they  talked  of 
their  loss.  She  had  come  in,  the  night  of  her  decease,  as  she  always  did  the 
last  thing  before  retiring,  to  make  her  kind  inquiries,  and  see  if  their  wants 
were  all  attended  to.  She  tallied  of  her  plans  for  the  morrow,  and,  bidding  them 
a  cheerful  good  night,  left  them.  An  hour  later,  by  the  moving  lights  and 
apparent  confusion  in  the  mansion  opposite,  they  felt  that  something 
unusual  had  happened.  Too  soon  the  dreadful  news  came;  their  protectress 
was  no  more. 

"In  company  with  a  mutual  friend  I  sought  the  place  where  reposed  all 
that  was  earthly  of  my  beloved  friend.  Long  and  reverently  we  stood  by 
that  sodless  grave.  For  us  it  was  a  hallowed  spot.  As  yet  no  stone 
marked  her  resting-place,  but  an  offering  of  flowers  lay  at  the  head  of  her 
grave.  'They  are  always  here,'  said  my  companion;  'a  fresh  bouquet  every 
day,  placed  here  by  unknown  hands.' 

"Many  years  have  passed.  I  know  not  what  monument  rises  above  that 
sacred  sepulchre,  nor  on  what  tablet  her  virtues  are  commemorated.  I  only 
know  her  memory  is  enshrined  in  the  hearts  of  the  poor,  and  thus  she  is 
ever  immortal." 

Mrs.  McKinstry  died  June  22,  1862,  aged  sixty-four  years.  She  was 
followed  to  the  grave  by  the  inmates  of  the  asylum,  and  a  crying  crowd  of 
poor  unfortunates  from  all  over  the  city,  and  every  day  for  years  after  her 
death  the  hillock  in  the  graveyard  where  her  remains  repose  was  strewn  with 
fresh  flowers,  the  tribute  of  unknown  bauds. 


SARAH    BROUGHTON. 

Although  this  beautiful  woman  is  where  neither  pity  nor  sympathy  can 
reach  her,  yet  every  letter  I  receive  in  regard  to  her  life  calls  out  all  the 
sympathies  of  my  bein^  for  the  suffering  she  endured  here,  and  I  cannot  help 
wishing  that  she  could  know  how  many  of  her  earthly  friends  revere  and  love 
her  memory. 

Sarah    Sumner  was   the   daughter  of  Daniel  Sumner,   of  Lamoille,  Vt. 


32  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

She  was  bom  in  the  morning  of  the  29th  of  Oct.,  1802.  The  morning  was 
bright  and  radiant;  and  when  the  babe  was  placed  in  the  mother's  arms  the 
mother  said:  "If  betokening  signs  are  true,  my  babe  is  to  have  a  pleasant 
life."  But  before  midday  the  sun  was  darkened  with  angry  and  forbidding 
clouds,  and  a  storm  of  rain  and  wind  succeeded.  But  the  evening  of  the 
day  was  made  beautiful  by  the  shining  forth  of  the  sun,  and  its  peaceful  set- 
ting. If  that  mother  could  have  lived  to  the  rounding  of  that  dear  one's  life, 
she  woidd  have  recalled  the  typical  omens,  and  perhaps  would  have  asked 
the  question, — "Why  is  it  that  God  deals  so  severely  with  his  bright  and  good 
ones?"  A  friend  of  Mrs.  Broughton  said  to  her,  at  a  time  when  she  was  suf- 
fering from  some  great  trouble,— "I  pity  you!  why  are  you  so  afflicted?"  and 
the  patient  one  replied, — "I  must  need  affliction.  If  we  judge  of  our  bodily 
needs  by  the  violence  of  the  medicine  given,  we  must  judge  of  our  spiritual 
needs  by  what  our  spiritual  physician  administers."  This  sentiment  she 
expresses  in  her  poem  entitled  "Sorrow:" 

"I  know  there  are  afflictions  like  the  soft  Spring  morning  showers. 
That  drench  in  tears  the  opening  buds  of  May's  sweet-blooming  flowers, 
Yet  add  new  beauty  to  the  leaf,  fresh  vigor  to  the  stem. 
And  teach  the  lily  to  outvie  the    proudest    diadem." 

And  this  woidd  have  been  the  reply  to  the  mother's  question. 

Sarah's  family  were  plain  but  kind  and  large-hearted  j)eople,  fond  of 
reading;  and  in  her  girlhood  she  showed  mental  superiority  and  poetical 
genius.  When  but  four  or  five  years  old  she  would  gather  blossoms  and  hide 
herself  among  the  tall  grass,  and  make  what  she  called  verses  of  the  flowers; 
her  artistic  eye  as  well  as  poetic  soul  would  blend  the  colors  until  they  were 
pleasing,  and  that  she  called  poetry.  She  was  too  young  to  realize  that  those 
were  to  be  the  only  sorrow-free  days  of  her  earthly  existence. 

Sarah  lived  by  the  banks  of  the  winding  Lamoille;  and  soon  after  her 
death,  Mrs.  L.  F.  W.  Gillette  wrote  an  article  for  the  "Ambassador,"  in  which 
she  said, — "Sarah  would  frequently  steal  out  from  her  low  chamber  when  the 
family  were  at  rest,  and,  with  her  glistening  purple-black  hair  hanging  around 
her  white  robe,  would  glide  noiselessly  to  the  river,  with  her  small  feet  hang- 
ing down  the  bank,  her  ear  drinking  in  the  music  of  the  singing  waters,  and 
her  gaze  riveted  upon  the  starry  skies,  or  watching  the  dappled  shadows  cast 


SARAH    BBOUGHTON.  33 

by  the  waving  tree-leaves  and  the  silver  moonlight.  Nor  would  she  seek  her 
pillow  until  her  sonl  was  filled  with  the  gathered  loveliness;  then  she  would 
return  with  her  large  Mack  eyes  gleaming  with  clear,  poetic  fire. 

"She  had  few  advantages  when  a  child.  The  great  natural  world  with  its 
beauties,  and  the  angels  with  their  white  wings  and  soaring  love,  were  ever  by 
her  side.  These  were  her  true  instructors,  for  there  was  no  one  wise  in  hid- 
den lore,  or  who  could  understand  and  guide  her  warm,  enthusiastic  nature, 
and  sympathize  in  her  peculiar  and  eager  desire  for  mental  improvement. 
And  more  than  ah,  the  great  tide  of  tenderness  that  ebbed  and  flowed  in  her 
child-heart  was  doomed  to  roll  on  and  in  and  around  the  heart-walls,  for 
there  was  no  human  being  who  knew  their  depths,  whose  heart  could  give 
back  in  exchange  the  same  deep,  mellow  sentiment;  and  in  the  deep,  dark 
valley  she  moved  alone,  her  young  spirit  fearless  amid  the  beauty  and  grand- 
eur that  surrounded  her." 

When  about  twelve  years  old  her  parents  moved  to  New  York.  Her 
father  died  soon  after — a  great  grief  to  her.  At  fifteen  she  supported  herself 
by  teaching.  When  eighteen  years  old  she  moved  with  a  friend  to  Malone, 
N.  Y.,  but  continued  her  teaching  until  she  was  married,  which  was  at  the 
age  of  twenty-three,  in  1825,  to  S.  H.  Broughton,  of  Malone,  N.  Y.  Her 
only  surviving  child,  Mrs.  L.  J.  Watkins,  Han  Jose,  Cah,  says:  "I  can  not 
give  you  as  much  as  I  would  about  my  mother,  for  I  was  not  eighteen  when 
I  left  home,  and  I  have  never  set  eyes  on  her  dear  face  since,  and  that  was 
thirty  years  ago.  By  nature  my  mother  was  a  'Mary,'  hut  by  circumstances 
a  'Martha:'  that  is,  her  cares  turned  the  current  of  her  life  from  the  ideal 
to  the  practical.  She  was  very  fine-looking — large,  dark,  lustrous  eyes,  glossy 
blue-black  hair,  and  an  expressive,  broad  forehead;  and  her  friends  used  to 
say  that  her  smile  was  the  most  radiant  that  ever  spread  its  sweetness  upon  a 
human  face.  In  her  early  life  my  mother  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  I  have 
heard  her  say  that  she  became  a  Universalist  by  reading  the  Bible." 

Soon  after  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Broughton  found  that  she  had  not  only  her- 
self to  provide  for,  but  a  husband  inclined  to  indulge  in  drink:  and  her  first 
effort  toward  it  was  in  keeping  young  lady  hoarders  for  the  school;  and  Mrs. 
Gillette  relates  the  circumstances  which  introduced  her  to  the  public.  One 
"composition  day"  a  young  lady  desired  to  exchange  work.     If  Mrs.  Brough- 


34  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ton  would  write  the  composition  she  would  perform  the  labors  of  the  morn- 
ing. The  exchange  was  agreed  upon  between  them.  The  composition 
elicited  great  praise,  and  was  caUed  for  as  a  contribution  to  the  village  paper. 
The  young  lady  consented,  and  revealed  the  name  of  the  author.  Soon  after 
Mrs.  Brough ton  became  one  of  the  favorites  of  the  "Magazine  and  Advocate," 
"Universalist  Union,"  "Ladies'  Repository,"  "Rose  of  Sharon,"  and  other 
Universalist  publications,  and  ever  devoted  her  time  and  strength  to  our 
denominational  literature. 

Mrs.  Broughton  was  the  mother  of  six  grown  children — Sumner,  Celeste, 
Harry,  Laura,  Charles  and  Maria.  Laura  is  a  resident  of  San  Jose,  Cal., 
with  whom  her  father  resides — now,  alas!  debased  by  appetite,  unable  to 
appreciate  or  enjoy  his  only  child's  tender  care.  Intemperance  had  brought 
the  husband  and  father  so  low,  and  his  cronies  were  so  many,  that  it  was 
thought  best  to  change  their  residence,  and  Michigan  was  chosen  as  a  place 
far  enough  removed  from  his  old  haunts  for  their  home.  But  the  change 
made  no  improvement;  he  continued  in  his  old  habits  tmtil  the  family  was 
reduced  to  the  lowest  poverty,  and  was  supported  only  by  the  pen  of  that 
crucified  heart.  It  was  in  1819  that  she  came  to  Michigan  and  lived  within 
eleven  miles  of  Rev.  E.  M.  Woolley;  and  longing  for  sympathy  from  some 
true  heart,  she  left  home  for  a  visit  with  the  Woolleys.  Neither  Mr.  Woolley 
nor  his  daughter,  Fidelia,  had  ever  met  her  until  she  walked  into  their  modest 
home  for  a  visit.  They  saw  at  a  glance  that  she  was  the  wreck  of  a  once 
gloriously  beautiful  woman.  Mrs.  Gillette  says  that  her  long,  shining  black 
hair  was  then  threaded  with  white ;  her  large,  black  eyes  dimmed  by  years  of 
sorrow;  her  features,  sharpened  by  complicated  cares  and  sickness;  her  slight 
form  emaciated;  and  the  great,  massive  head  seemed  too  heavy  for  the  slen- 
der neck  that  upheld  it.  To  hear  her  speak  and  observe  her  manner,  one 
felt  that  tender,  deep,  passionate,  all- sacrificing  love  was  her  nature.  We 
can  but  believe  that  this  grand  and  sorrowing  woman  went  back  to  her 
cheerless  home  comforted  by  the  words  spoken  to  her  by  the  great-hearted 
Woolley,  and  cheered  by  the  communion  with  our  then  youthful  singer,  who 
says:  "In  the  Autumn  of  1848  I  passed  two  weeks  in  her  home  on  the  banks 
of  the  blue-lipped  Clinton.  The  golden  memories  of  that  happy  visit  will,  I 
trust,  be  kept  by  all  then  there,  in  the  holy  home  to  which  we  are  all  hasten- 


SARAH    BROUGHTON.  35 

ing.  To  others,  perhaps,  they  would  be  nothing.  It  were  enough  that  the 
wife,  the  mother,  the  friend  was  far  more  than  the  world  can  ever  know  her 
to  have  been.  One  year  more  and  I  was  with  her  again.  But  the  little  light 
that  hung  about  her  heart  and  home  at  the  time  of  my  first  visit  had  all 
departed.  A  young  bride  was  on  the  eve  of  departure  for  the  land  of  the  set- 
ting sun;  two  sons  were  very  ill — one  with  chills  and  fever;  the  other,  upon 
whom  she  had  hoped  to  lean  in  her  declining  years,  it  was  feared  was  in  con- 
sumption; and  her  first-born  lay  in  his  coffin-home,  ready  for  the  bearers. 
That  night,  as  I  sat  by  her  side,  she  looked  up  from  her  pillow  and  said,— 'I 
fear  insanity;'  "  and  Mrs.  Gillette  continues  by  saying, — "When  I  looked  upon 
her  great  brain,  and  thought  of  the  deep  tenderness  of  her  nature,  and  the 
crushing  circumstances  of  her  life,  I  was  only  surprised  that  the  spirit  had 
not  ere  this  cut  itself  away. "  A  few  years  later  her  eldest  daughter  passed 
into  the  life  beyond. 

Another  writes:  "She  was  a  woman  of  commanding  presence,  but  when 
I  last  saw  her,  her  large  dark  eyes,  through  which  her  heart  ever  spoke,  told 
a  story  of  not  only  a  buried  and  broken  heart,  but  a  brain  that  had  begun  to 
give  way  beneath  the  pressure  of  blending  burdens." 

But  she  so  far  recovered  her  health  as  to  be  able  to  write,  and  among  her 
last  productions  was  the  following,  to  her  now  only  surviving  child,  Laura, 
the  bride  who  had  gone  to  the  Pacific  coast : 

THE    FAREWELL. 

The  hour  has  passed,  ami  thou  no  more  shall  see 
The  mother  who  watched  o'er  thine  infant   years, 

Who  through  griefs  weary  season  cared  tor  thee, 

While  the  bruis'd  heart-strings  wepl  their  crimson  tears. 

No  more   thou'lt  see  me;   o'er  the  waters  bright, 

In  whose  clear  depth  the  circling  rainbows  sleep, 
Thy  onward  path  shall  be,  while  mournful   light 

Collies   tO    these    eyes    that    can    not    cease    to    weep. 

Thou  wilt  roam  gaily  on  the  far-off  shore. 

Where  the  unclouded  Summer  sunlighl  gleams, 

And   list   at    eve    the   breakers'   solemn    roar. 

That   greets  the  swelling  song  ol  rushing  streams. 

Soft,  odorous  gales,  from  many  a  sea-rocked  isle. 
With  balmy  wing  may  fan  the  orange  Bowers, 


yg  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

And  birds  of  gorgeous   plume  may  sing  the  while 
Their  merry  carols  'mid  the  fadeless  bowers. 

The  morning  sunlight  on  the  ocean  wave 

May  shed  a  radiance  like  the  smile  of  God; 

Wild  mountain  torrents  golden  sands  may  lave, 
And  flowery  gems  inlay  the  verdant  sod; 

But  in  the  lonely  hours  thy  soul  shalt  turn 

With  restless  longings  to  the  hallowed  shrine, 

Where,  till  life's  latest  flame  shall  cease  to  burn, 
Thy  mother's  deathless  love  for  thee  shall  pine. 

Upon  that  heart  where  thy  young  head  did  rest 
So  tenderly,  in  the  bright,  sinless  years, 

The  weary  clasp  of  sorrow's  chain  is  prest, 

And  through  the  gathering  gloom  no  star  appears. 

God  bless  and  keep  thee;   though  we  meet  no  more, 

Amid  the  green  paths  ot   the  pleasant  earth, 
I'll  wait  thee  on  the  high,  immortal  shore, 

Where  time's  frail  children  gain  the  angel-birth. 

The  mother-heart  shall  know  thee,  in  that  clime, 

Where  the  redeemed  ones  walk  in  robes  of  white, 

And  greet  thee  with  the  song  of   bliss  sublime, 

And  wreathe  thy  brow  with  flowers  of  golden  light. 

And  we  will  walk  beside  life's  crystal  stream 
That  flows  forever  from  the  glorious  throne. 

And  tune  our  lyres  to  love's  exhaustless  theme, 
While  the  eternal  ages  circle  on. 


Her  son  Henry,  thinking  only  of  his  mother's  comfort,  went  to  Lake 
Superior  prospecting,  and  -fortune  smiled  to  such  an  extent  that  he  was  soon 
ahle  to  send  for  her,  and  not  only  make  her  comfortahle  hut  give  her  all  the 
luxuries  of  those  days.  They  had  anticipated  much  pleasure  and  happiness 
in  their  new  and  romantic  home,  and  she  had  promised  her  son  that  she 
would  take  no  care,  hut  devote  the  remainder  of  her  life  to  literary  labor. 
But  I  give  below  a  letter  written  to  Mrs.  Gillette  a  few  months  after  she 
arrived  at  her  new  home : 

"It  was  not  until  a  day  or  two  before  her  death  that  I  admitted  a  fatal 
termination  to  her  disease.  She  assured  me  she  should  recover.  How  fer- 
vently (  prayed  she  would!     She  revive'!  so  much  the  day  or  two  before  her 


SARAH    UROUGHTON.  87 

death,  and  spoke  so  cheerfully  of  her  recovery,  that  I  left  her  a  few  hours,  to 
go  out  to  the  mines,  where  business  required  my  attention.  When  I 
returned  in  the  evening,  mother  did  not  know  me,  and  she  did  not  speak 
except  to  ask  for  water.  Her  poor,  shattered  frame  was  nearly  wasted  away 
before  her  spirit  left  it.  in  a  few  moments,  I  saw  there  was  no  hope.  She 
died  on  the  evening  of  the  20th  of  December,  1853,  after  an  illness  of  three 
weeks,  of  typhoid  fever.  She  died  without  a  fear.  The  dark  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death  had  no  terrors  for  her.  This  cold,  frigid  region  is  not  where 
1  should  wish  to  consign  her  precious  dust  to  its  last  abode;  but  she  was 
anxious  to  come  here,  and  here  she  was  willing  to  die.  We  are  alone  now, 
and  we  feel  that  she  loved  us  with  a  love  we  shall  never  know  again."  And 
this  dear  boy,  forgetting  everything  but  his  mother's  love  and  his  loss,  adds, 
— "She  was  in  the  completest  sense  a  martyr  to  her  love  for  her  children." 
But  the  daughter,  remembering  the  long  sufferings  her  mother  had  endured, 
says, — "No!  She  was  a  martyr  to  rum."  However  this  was,  we  are  reminded 
of  what  Lord  Byron  says  of  the  oak:  "The  tree  hath  lost  its  blossom ;  and  the 
rind,  chopped  by  the  ax,  looks  rough  and  little  worth,  but  the  sap  lasts." 

From  a  manuscript  volume  of  her  poems,  kindly  loaned  by  her  daughter, 
Mrs.  L.  J.  Watkins,  of  San  Jose,  Cal.,  the  following  are  extracted: 

SUNSET. 

Softly  the  sunbeams  gild  the  distant  mountain. 

Veiling  -with  purple  light  its  frowning  crest, 
Flinging  their  radiance  o'er  the  silvery  fountain. 

That  mirrors  back  heaven's  richly-broidered  vest. 
How  beauteous  are  the  sunset-banners,  waving 

Their  golden-penciled  folds  along  tin'  sky. 
While  liquid    pearls   tho  folded   flowers   are    laving, 

And   the  bright   lamps  of  love  are  lit  on  high. 

The  gorgeous   drapery   that    veils   the   azure 

Is  folded  as  no  other  hand  ran    fold 
Save   his   who   bids   the   whirlwinds   do   his   pleasure. 

And  in  his  grasp  the  slumbering  thunders  hold; 
Whose  chariot  rolls  above  the  whirling  billows 

Borne  by  the  darkling  pinions  of  the  storm: 
Whose  throne   is   based   on   truth's   enduring  pillars. 

While  love  and  power  his  high  behests  perform. 


38  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

It  seems  as  if  the  angel-band,  descending. 

From  the  bright  realms  of  glory  far  away. 
Their  flight  to  some  fair  orb  awhile  suspending, 

With  heaven's  own   radiance  crowned  the  fading  day. 
So  softly  bright  the  soul,  with  sweet  emotion, 

Bows  reverently,  as  if  before  that  shrine 
"Where  seraphs  veil  their   brows  in  deep  devotion. 

And  myriad  harpers  raise  the  chant  divine. 

With  low  and  silvery  tones  the  gales  are  sighing 

Their  farewell  echoes  through  the  quivering  boughs. 
Like  the  hushed  spirit's  moan,  when  friends  are  dying. 

Ere  yet  the  icy  garland  twines  their  brows. 
Darkness  and  shadow  o'er  the  vales  are  creeping, 

Blendings  of  twilight  veil  the  crystal  rill; 
The  lowly  wild-flowers'  gentle  tears  seem  weeping, 

And  mystic   influence  the  spirit  thrill. 

Sweet  star  of  even,  on    the  horizon  beaming. 

How  beautiful  thy  teachings  to  the  soul! 
From  the  mysterious  depths  of  azure  gleaming, 

Thou  speak'st  of  climes  where  floods  of  knowledge  roll; 
Like  the  blest  star,  that  beams  in  smiling  splendor, 

When  round  us  sweep  the  shadows  of  the  tomb, 
Drawing  us  upward,,  where,  in  dazzling  splendor, 

Love's  glorious  sun  dispels  each  shade  of  gloom. 

In  this  blest  home  the   spirit  fondly  lingers. 

Above  the  hallowed  mounds  where  sweetly  rest 

The  cherished  dead,  and  memory's  busy  fingers 

Thrill  with  sad  touch  the  wildly-throbbing  breast. 

And  as  the  rainbow  tints  are  fading  slowly, 
+  And  night  her  jeweled  coronet  puts  on. 

The  spirit  trusts,  with  resignation  holy. 

To  meet   them  on  the  resurrection  morn. 


STANZAS. 

How  fair  is  the  tinge  of  the  young,  vernal  rose 
As  in  bright  blushing  beauty  its  petals  unfold, 

And  with  diamond-drops  sparkling  the  carnation  glows, 
Winn   in   glory  the  banners  of   morn  are  unroll'd. 

But  the   violel    fringe  of  those  pennons  will  fade. 

And   the   tempest's  breath   darken   the   carnation's  glow; 

And   the   rose   where  the  pencil  of   beauty  hath  stray'd, 

When   the  storm-cloud  hath   passed  shall   lie  mournfully  low; 


SARAH    BKOUGHTON.  39 


And  the  pure  gems  Of  lighl  that  so  brilliantly  beamed 
In  a  circlet   of  love  round  the  fond  mother's  heart. 

One  by  one  must  go  down  in  the  dark-rolling  stream. 
And  like  shadows  of  glory,  at  sunset  depart. 

But  a  beautiful   region    is   beaming  afar. 

Where  tin'   crystalline   fountains,  o'er-shadow'd    with  bloom, 
Cast  their  spangles  of  lighl  on   the  sweet-scented  air. 

And  the  wings  of  the  cherubim  scatter  perfume.         t 

There  the  flowers  that   withered  'neath time's  chilling  sky, 

Transplanted  shall   live  in  perennial   prime, 
While   the   anthems  of  glory   an-   sounding  on   high, 

And  the  arches  of  sapphire  ring  back  the  loud  chime. 


THE    FALL    OF    JERUSALEM. 

How  fair  is  the   land   to   the   eye! 

How  lovely  her  prospects  appear! 
The  cedars  of  Lebanon   flourish  on  high, 

And  the  roses  of  Sharon  are  here, 
The   milk    and   the   honey   and   wine 

From  the  land  of  the  chosen  are  flowing; 
Mount  Carmel   is  spread  with  a  carpet  of  vine. 

And  the  balm  is  from  Gilead  blowing. 
The  lily  and  rose  in  the  valley  are  seen, 
And   the   hills   of  Judea  are   sunny   and  green. 

Jerusalem!  proud  is  thy  story. 

With   splendor  and  pomp  and  high  daring  allied; 
Here  glitters  thy  temple,  the  pageant  of  glory. 

The  crowning  of  Palestine's    pride; 
The   sound   of  the   tabret    and   sackbut   is  heard. 

As  nations  go  in  at  thy  gate; 
The  heathen  the  gleam  of   thy  panoply  feared. 

And  named  thee   the  mighty   and   great. 
Art  thou  guiltless?    Ah,  no;    for  the  groans  of  the  just 
And   the   blood   of  thy   martyrs   cries   out    from    the  dust. 

Art   thou   guiltless?    0   answer,   thou  tears 
That  fell  upon  Bethany's  plain! 

Bear  witness,  the  scourge  and  the  fears  which  appeared 

On  the  hill  where  Messiah  was  slain! 
The  angel  <>f  death  with  the  sword  of  thy  doom 

Shall   the   hand   of  Omnipotence   stay? 
Speak,   prophet   of  Nafcareth!   speak    from   the   tomb 

Where  thy  murdered  mortality  lay. 


40  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Art  thou  guiltless?    Ah,  never!   for  damp  is  the  sod 
With  the  blood  of  thy  prophets,  the  tears  of  thy  God. 

There's  a  curse  on  thy  green,  sunny  bowers; 

The  voice  of  thy  thunder  comes  fearful  and  loud 
From  the  cloud  hanging  over  the  turrets  and  towers. 

And  red  is  the  fringe  of  that  ominous  cloud. 
Ah,  hushed  be  the  song  of  thy  mirth; 

Let  guilty  delinquents  turn  pale; 
The  swift  march  of  earthquakes  re-echoes  through  earth. 

And  a  rumor  of  conflict  hath  laden  the  gale. 
O  ye  innocent!  flee  to  the  mountains,  for  nigh 
Is  the  doom    of  the  guilty,  and  sealed  from  on  high. 

Proud  city,    thy  glory  is  fading; 

The  armor  of  David  is  covered   with  rust. 
And  the  Roman  avenger  through  carnage  is  wading. 

To  trample  thy  splendors  in  dust! 
See!  proud  o'er  that  battle  array 

The  Julian  banner  is  streaming; 
And  bright  as  the  sunbeams  that  gladden  the  day 

The  lance  and  the  helmet  are  gleaming. 
Abandoned  Solyma!  the  vial  is  poured, 
And  famine  and  faction  combine  with  the  sword. 

O  where  is  the  shield  that  was  spread 

When  the  infidel  came  in  his  might? 
For  the  hearts  of  the  valiant  were  throbbing  with  dread, 

As  he  bared  his  strong  arm  for  the  fight.    ' 
And  oft  was  the  proud  pagan  there, 

To  rob  and  lead  captive    away; 
Yet  the  lion  of  Judah  awoke  from  his  lair, 

And  rent  from  the  spoiler  his  prey, 
Mourn,  hapless  Judea!  in  sackcloth  and  dust; 
Thy  God  thou  hast  crucified!  where  is  thy  trust? 

Now  tin'  Ottoman  sits  on  thy  throne, 

Aim!    sways  his  curs'd  rod  o'er  his  subjugate  lands. 
On  the  hills  where  the  temple  of  Solomon  shone 

The  mosque  of  the  Saracen  stands. 
The  hand  of  oppression  hath  scattered  a  blight. 

And  hath  her  anathema  spoken. 
In  vain,  ye  crusaders,   ye  rush  to  the  fight; 

For  her  bondage  is  not  to  be  broken; 
Not  yet  to  be  broken!     Accomplished  her  curse, 
The  page  of  her  doom  the  Most  High  shall  reverse. 


EUNICE    HALE    WAITE    COBB.  41 


EUNICE     HALE     WAITE     COBB. 

Eunice  Hale  Waite  was  bom  in  Kennebunk,  Me.,  Jan.  27,  1803,  the 
second  child  of  Capt.  Hale  Waite  and  his  wife  Elizabeth  (nee  Stanwood). 
The  health  of  her  father  failing,  he  returned  to  Old  Ipswich,  Mass.,  from 
which  they  had  removed  but  a  short  time  before  her  birth.  Eunice  was  in 
her  fifth  year  when  her  father  died,  leaving  a  widowed  mother  with  four 
daughters.  The  two  younger  than  Eunice  passed  away  in  infancy  or  youth. 
From  her  father's  death  until  the  age  of  ten  she  was  cared  for  by  her  grand- 
parents, and  consequently  reared  in  the  midst  of  the  veiy  hot-bed  of  the 
extremest  Calvinism,  which,  in  its  most  terrible  forms,  and  in  all  its  naked- 
ness of  horrors,  was  her  daily  and  hourly  spiritual  pabulum;  and  her  son, 
Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr.,  the  author,  says:  "Do  not  forget  that  this  was  at  the 
most  impressionable  period  of  her  life,  that  period  when  the  mind  is  sup- 
posed to  take  on  its  most  lasting  forms  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  this 
period  was  wholly  under  the  influence  of  Calvinistic  Limitarianism,  pure 
and  undefiled." 

A  great  and  blessed  change  came  to  Eunice  at  the  age  of  ten.  Her 
mother  took  for  her  second  husband  Samuel  Locke,  Esq.,  one  of  the  good 
Father's  own  men,  a  man  of  liberal  education,  a  school  preceptor  by  profes- 
sion, a  great-hearted,  liberal-minded,  Christian  man,  and  a  Universalist. 
His  residence  was  in  Hallowed,  Maine,  on  the  Kennebec,  thenceforth  the 
home  of  Eunice  Waite.  It  was  not  long  before  the  quick-discerning  mind 
of  this  precocious  child  saw  and  felt  that  the  faith  of  her  step-father  har- 
monized with  the  desire  of  her  soul,  and  she  went  to  him  for  spiritual 
guidance  and  help.  In  his  wisdom  he  said:  "I  will  not  try  to  shake  your 
faith,  but  I  would  have  you  study  candidly,  patiently, Intelligently,  fearlessly, 
the  Bible.  Study  it  in  the  light  of  God's  character  as  a  universal  parent. 
Study  the  New  Testament  in  the  light  of  what  you  know  to  have  been  the 
purpose  and  plan  of  your  Father  in  heaven  in  sending  his  only  begotten 
Son  to  earth,  and  you  will  forget  the  old  dogmas  that  haunt  you  by  day  and 
by  night."     She  did  as  advised,  and  the  result  was  "The  First  Article,"  and 


42  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

from  that  time  to  her  passing  into  everlasting  day  her  soul  basked  in  the  full 
light  of  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the  blessed  and  universal  Redeemer.  The 
article  above  mentioned  was  written  for  the  "Universalist  Magazine"  of  April 
21,  1821,  a  paper  published  by  Henry  Bowen,  in  Boston,  and  edited  by  Rev. 
Hosea  Ballou.  The  paper  was  a  foho,  each  page  10^x8  inches.  The  article 
occupied  one -fourth  of  the  paper. 

At  that  time  men  were  scarce  who  dared  to  come  boldly  to  the  front 
as  ministers  of  the  Gospel,  willing  to  declare  God's  universal  goodness;  and 
Mr.  Ballou,  while  reading  the  article  for  the  first  time,  congratulated  him- 
self to  the  close,  believing  the  author  to  be  a  man,  and  a  new  candidate  for 
the  ministry.  The  signature,  Eunice  Hale  Waite,  dispelled  the  hope  that  it 
was  a  male  convert  who  would  be  willing  to  come  into  his  Master's  vine- 
yard and  work  for  the  redemption  of  souls.  In  those  days  a  woman  ministry 
was  unheard  of;  so  "Father  Ballou,"  as  we  will  affectionately  call  him,  was 
conscientious  in  not  urging  this  young  girl  to  enter  a  field  of  labor  which  it 
was  almost  a  disgrace  for  even  a  man  to  occupy.  And  we  hope  that  women 
wih  never  forget  that  men  made  this  new  field  of  labor  not  only  respectable 
but  easy  for  them  to  walk  therein. 

Mr.  Ballou  was  not  wanting  in  appreciation  of  a  spirit  that  had  burst 
its  fetters;  and  he  said  to  Rev.  Thomas  Whittemore, — "What  shall  we  do  to 
show  our  appreciation  of  this  sister  who  has  dared  to  face  the  criticising 
world  for  Christ's  sake?"  It  was  decided  to  have  this  first  article  printed  in 
sheets  and  distributed  for  the  purpose  of  strengthening  others  who  stood 
between  the  old  and  the  new  theologies,  doubting.  Two  copies  were  printed 
on  white  satin  and  sent  to  the  author. 

It  was  not  the  Bible  alone  which  taught  young  Eunice  to  believe  in  the 
liberation  of  every  soul  from  sin  and  suffering ;  it  was  not  that  alone  that 
lifted  her  above  the  accusation  which  was  almost  universally  given  to  God, 
that  he  would  with  pleasure  condemn  a  large  portion  of  his  children  to 
eternal  wretchedness,  but  it  was  our  great  and  beautiful  world,  lavishly 
decked  with  every  beauty  and  grace  and  needed  comfort,  that  breathed  his 
divine  and  universal  love  into  her  seeking  soul. 

The  article  referred  to  above,  in  its  original  form,  was  sent  to  me  by 
R<  v.  Anson  Titus,  of  WVvnionth,  Mass.      \i  here   follows,  and    this   letter   i,-; 


EUNICE    HALE    WAITE    OOBB.  1  I 

Euin -i  Hale  Wjite's  simple  testimony  to  the  beauty  and  value  and  glory  of 
the  blessed  A_brahamic  faith: 

To  thk  Editob  of  the  Univebsalist  Magazine— Sir:— Undoubtedly  you  will 
I  •  somewhat  surprised  al  the  reception  of  ;i  letter,  ;it  this  time,  from  an  utter 
stranger,  bul  although  we  are  strangers  to  each  other,  I  trust  we  are  not  strangers 
to  thai  Being  who  has.  I  humbly  trust,  by  his  grace  enabled  us  to  obtain  a  full 
belief  in  his  Son  Jesus  Christ.  I  have  Ions  premeditated  writing  to  you.  bul  have 
deferred  it.  realizing  my  own  weakness  and  inability  of  writing  to  one  so  far 
superior  to  myself;  but  I  have  now  ventured,  relying  entirely  on  your  charity  and 
Christian  disposition  to  pardon  the  many  errors  which  may  present  themselves  on 
this  sheet.  It  will  be  my  object  in  this  epistle,  as  it  may  not  be  uninteresting  to 
you,  to  give  you  a  short  sketch  of  my  life,  and  conversion  to  the  Abrahamic  faith. 
I  was  born  in  Kennebunk.  My  father  dying  when  I  was  a  child,  I  spent  much  of 
my  time  with  my  grandparents,  whose  object  it  ever  was  to  store  my  mind  with 
usefulness  and  lessons  of  piety;  but  they,  being  strict  Calvinists,  taught,  as  many 
oih.rs   do,   after  the   old   traditional  form,  that 

Ther^  is  a  dreadful  fiery  hell, 

Where  wicked  ones  must  always  dwell. 

It   was   the   custom   of  the   family,   for  those  of  us  who   were    young,   every   Sabbath 
to  recite  to    my  grandmother  lessons  in  the  catechism,    and    repeat    hymns    which 
we   had   learnt   from  the   primer  and  other  small  books,  and  my  mind  being  young 
and  tender,  thereby  became  the  seat  of  tradition  and  error.     When  I  was    at    the 
age  of  ten  my  mother  again   married,  and   removed   to  Hallowell.     My   catechetical 
les~ons  now  became  unpracticed,  and    my    hymns    almost    forgotten,    and    nothing 
particular  occurred  until   the  Autumn   of    1817,    when    Winthrop    Morse,    a    Baptist 
preacher,   came  to  Hallowell.     He  being  much   liked  as  a    preacher,  and    his    fame 
much  talked  of,  consequently    excited   much    attention    among    the    people;     and   I, 
feeling  a  curiosity  to  hear  him,  accordingly  went  and  heard  him  preach  from  Amos,— 
"Prepare  to   meet  thy  God."     He    set    forth    two    characters— those  who    were   pre- 
pared to  meet  Cod,  and  those  who  were  nut;    and  upon   his  expatiating  upon  those 
characters,  I  found  myself  to  be  one  of  those  who  were  entirely    unprepared;  and 
feeling  in   some   degree   sensible   of  my   situation,  my  mind   became   much   exercised, 
and   I  felt   sensible   of  the   necessity   of   a   preparation  being   made    in    this    world   to 
meet  God  in  the  coming.     But    tradition,   which   had    been    for    a    long    time    asleep 
in  my  breast,  now  awoke  in   its   most  glaring  colors,   and   would  often  cause  me  to 
answer  in    the  affirmative  to  some    of    the    most    inconsistent   questions  that  were 
ever  asked  by  man,   some    of  which   were  the  following.— "Do   you   feel   willing  to  be 
cast  off  forever?     And  do  you  feel  that   it   would  be  just  in  God  to  consign   you  to 
irrecoverable    woe?"     To    these    and    many    others    I    would    readily   assent,   being 
totally  ignorant  of  the  erroneous  nature  of  them.    I   was   young    ami    unacquainted 
with   the   Scriptures  of  divine   truth:   therefore   did.  like   many  others,   put    my    trust 
in  an  arm  of  flesh,   as   it    respects   religious   principles.      After  I  thought   I    had  evi- 
dence that  my  sins  were   forgiven.    I  strove   for    a    lone;  time    to    support     error,   to 
support  the  doctrine  of  election   and   endless   misery,   but    something    would    always 
whisper.— "All   is   not    right."      I   would    read    some,   and    converse     much     with     those 
who  would  spare  no  pains  in  trying  to  convince  me  that  such  tenets    were    com- 
patible  with  the  word  of  God,  but  still  there    was    something    which    I    could    not 


44  OUE    WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

reconcile.  My  mind  continued  in  this  unsettled  frame  for  more  than  a  year.  I 
had  heard  the  doctrine  of  universal  love  contended  for,  but  like  all  others  who 
never  peruse  the  word  of  God  for  their  own  instruction,  thought  it  to  be  one  of  the 
most  erroneous  principles  which  man  could  imbibe,  but  never  could  give  my  rea- 
sons for  thinking  so.  At  length  I  heard  a  few  words  read  in  your  "Notes  on  the 
Parables,"  which  convinced  me  there  was  a  treasure  contained  in  the  word  of 
God  which  I  never  diligently  sought  after.  My  step-father  being  a  man  of 
liberal  sentiments,  and  much  acquainted  with  the  Scriptures,  I  would  often  ask 
his  .opinion  on  such  passages  of  Scripture  as  I  could  not  fully  comprehend,  being 
very  ignorant  of  them  myself:  but  he  would  ever  refuse  giving  me  his  opinion. 
knowing  my  mind  was  not  established,  but  always  commend  me  to  the  word  of 
God,  assuring  me  that  was  the  only  sure  guide  which  I  could  take,— and  would 
likewise  tell  me  of  the  necessity  of  reading  for  myself.  Finding  there  was  no  other 
resource,  I  now  felt  a  determination  to  read,  and  as  far  as  my  abilities  would 
admit,  judge  for  myself.  I  found  the  Scriptures  were  very  plain,  and  contained 
many  precious  promises,  which  appeared  to  be  for  all;  but  still  my  mind  was  not 
established,  nor  ever  would  have  been,  had  not  more  powerful  means  been  applied 
than  is  possible  for  the  greatest  divines  to  make  use  of;  it  was  indeed  God  alone 
who  could  have  confirmed  my  mind,  and  blessed  be  his  holy  name.  One  Sabbath 
morning,  my  mind  being  very  much  exercised,  and  feeling  sensible  that  it  was  the 
word  of  God  alone  which  I  ought  to  take  as  the  man  of  my  counsel,  and  to  him 
alone  I  had  ought  to  look  for  instruction:  after  committing  myself  to  his  care 
and  protection,  and  beseeching  of  him  to  enlighten  my  understanding,  and  give  me 
a  clear  and  perfect  view  of  the  holy  Scriptures  and  the  doctrines  therein  con- 
tained, I  opened  the  sacred  volume,  and  immediately  cast  my  eyes  upon  a  chapter 
which  I  had  no  recollection  of  reading  before— it  being  the  second  chapter  of  1st 
of  Timothy;  and  never  could  the  cooling  streams  give  more  joy  to  the  thirsty 
traveler  on  the  scorching  sands  of  Arabia  than  these  blessed,  comprehensive  and 
universal  sentiments  gave  to  my  thirsty  mind.  That  thick  cloud  of  error  and  tra- 
dition which  had  so  long  beclouded  my  understanding  was  now  dispelled,  and  I 
could  behold  the  universal  goodness  of  God  not  only  exhibited  in  the  Scriptures, 
but  in  all  the  works  of  his  bountiful  hand.  It  was  here  that  St.  Paul  was  made 
an  instrument  in  the  hands  of  God,  of  converting  one  to  his  most  holy  faith;  and 
may  God,  as  long  as  he  shall  grant  me  breath,  grant  faculties  capable  of  praising 
his  holy  name  for  bringing  me  out  of  nature's  darkness  into  his  great  and  mar- 
velous  light. 

I  spent  sixteen  years  of  my  life,  before  I  enjoyed  a  mind  free  and  estab- 
lished; since  that,  which  has  been  two  years,  for  the  most  part  of  the  time  I  have 
enjoyed  uninterrupted  happiness  in  contemplating  and  meditating  on  the  universal 
goodness  of  Clod;  and  although  I  have  been,  and  am  still,  often  assailed  by  the 
enemies  who  have  begged  of  me  to  renounce  such  erroneous  principles,  and  often 
told  even  by  professed  Christians  that  it  was  only  the  works  of  the  devil,  yet  I  still 
feel  a  determination  to  advocate  the  cause  in  which  I  reel  a  greal  desire  to  tic 
assiduously  engaged.  I  have  often  been  told  that  a  belief  like  mine  would  do  to 
build  upon  in  prosperity,  but  would  fail  in  the  day  of  adversity;  but,  indeed,  I 
have  found  their  assertion  to  be  false,  for  I  have  found  a  firm  belief  in  the  mer- 
cies of  God  to  be  a  covert  from  the  storm,  and  a  hiding-place  from  the  tempest: 
and.  when  trouble  has  surrounded  me.  it  has  made  the  day  of  adversity  appear 
'•aim   and   serene.     J    was  called   about   live  months   since  to   part  with   an  only  sister. 


EUNICE     HALE    YVAITE    COBB.  45 

who,  being    but    only    two  years   older  than    myself,    the    separation  was    rendered 

inil I  painful:   but   bow  comforting  beyond  description    is   the   reflection   that   it  is 

no1  eternal;  indeed,  I  fell  a  great  desire  for  her  life,  but,  when  I  was  called  to  see 
her  resign  her  breath  to  him  who  gave  it.  viewing  her  so  far  through  this  trouble- 
some, sinful  world,  and  about  to  launch  into  an  unbounded  ocean  of  eternal 
felicity,  how  willing  did  I  (eel  to  leave  her  in  the  hands  of  that  being  who  "work- 
eth  all  things  after  the  counsel  of  his  own  will."  Ami  I  trust  it  will  be  but  a 
short  time  before  i   shall  be   permitted  to   meet    her   in  the    realms   of   everlasting 

day.    where   we    never  shall    be   again   separated. 

I  never  have  had  the  privilege  of  hearing  the  universal  love  of  God  publicly 
contended  for  but  once,  and  that  was  soon  after  my  conversion  to  the  faith.  As 
I  am  deprived  of  this  privilege,  I  often   look  forward  with   acclamations  of  joy,  in 

anticipation  of  that  all-glorious  period  when  the  praise  of  God  shall  become  uni- 
versal; when,  I  trust,  I  shall  be,  permitted  to  join,  the  whole  human  family,  to 
compose  one  universal  assembly,  who  will  all  surround  the  spotless  throne  of  (bid's 
eternal  love,  and  there,  free  from  all  interruption,  join  in  ascriptions  of  never-ceas- 
ing praise  to  him  who  died  on  Calvary's  summit;  who  cried,— "It  is  finished!" 
Wowed  his  gentle  head  and  gave  up  the  ghost;  who  wrought  out  and  brought  in 
an  everlasting  salvation,  which  is  unto  all,  and  upon  all  those  who   believe. 

Mr.  Ballon,  I  trust  I  have  sufficiently  apologized  for  the  liberty  which  I  have 
taken  of  writing  to  you,  therefore,  I  shall  now  give  my  reasons  for  doing  it;  it 
was  not  because  I  thought  myself  qualified  to  fulfill  atask  like  this,  which  prompted 
me  to  undertake  it,  but  the  great  desire  which  I  have  long  felt  of  informing  my 
brothers  and  sisters  in  the  cause  of  the  great  and  unbounded  goodness  of  God,  of 
his  goodness  to  one  of  his  most  unworthy  creatures,  and  the  great  satisfaction 
which  I  have  derived  since  I  have  lived  in  the  enjoyment  of  a  firm  belief  in  that 
glorious  doctrine  which  tends  at  all  times  to  comfort  and  animate  the  believer: 
and  if  possible  convince  its  enemies,  that  there  is  that  joy  and  comfort  in  believ- 
ing which  the  world  can  neither  give  nor  take  away.  Should  you  think  this,  after 
much  correction,  worthy  a  place  in  your  Magazine,  you  have  the  liberty  of  insert- 
ing it. 

After  begging  an  interest  in  your  prayers  to  God,  that  I  may  prove  Faithful 
to  the  end.  I  take  the  liberty  of  subscribing  myself  your  unworthy  sister  in 
Christ.  E.  H.  W. 

The  following,  which  relates  the  process  of  her  conversion,  is  from  her 
chary,  copied  by  her  son  Sylvan  us  for  this  book,  but,  on  account  of  her  many 
old  friends  in  Maine,  "The  Gospel  Banner"  has  been  permitted  to  print  it: 


It  was  while  this  revival  was  in  progress  that  my  father,  who  was  a  daily 
reader  of  his  Bible,  received,  through  a  friend,  Rev.  Hosea  Ballou's  "Notes  on  the 
Parables."  and  his  work  on  Atonement.  With  these  works  in  hand  he  set  himself 
to  read  the  Old  and  New  Testaments  through  in  course,  the  result  of  which  was 
that    his   faith,   long  ago   broken    loose   from   Limitarianism,    became   firmly    fixed,   and 

he   knew    that    he   was    a    Universalist.     I    had    1 n   watchful   of    his    religious    and 

Biblical   studies,   and   knew  when   he   had   Anally   embraced   tic    Universalist    faith.      I 
dared    not   converse    with    him    on    tin'    subject.      I    really    felt— felt    it    in    my   heart— 


46  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

that  it  would  be  sinful  in  me  to  converse  willingly  on  religious  subjects  with  one 
who  believed  that  God  would  save  everybody.  I  even  felt  that  it  might  be,  on 
my  part— seeking  for  light  and  salvation  as  I  was— an  unpardonable  sin  for  me  to- 
deliberately  come  in  contact  with  such  a  dreadful  doctrine! 


Something  of  my  suffering  may  be  gathered  from  the  fact  that,  when  my 
father  would  take  up  the  Bible  to  read  to  my  mother,  I  would  flee  from  the  room, 
knowing  that  it  was  his  habit  to  analyze  and  explain  as  he  wTent  on.  Often,  when 
he  was  reading  aloud  from  one  of  Mr.  Ballou's  works,  I  would  And  that  the  thin 
partition  between  my  chamber  and  the  room  they  occupied  was  not  sufficient  to 
deaden  his  rich,  sonorous  voice;  and  then,  when  I  found  the  heretical  arguments 
reaching  my  understanding,  I  would  stop  my  ears  with  my  fingers,  and  so  sit 
until  he  had  finished  his  reading  for  the  evening. 

At  length,  the  church  government,  having  become  satisfied  of  the  genuineness 
of  my  experience,  and  desirous  of  enlisting  me  in  their  ranks  as  a  convert  from 
Congregationalism,  proposed  that  I  should  be  baptized,  and  make  a  full  and  pubjfc 
profession  of  religion.—/,  p.— of  Calvinism  in  its  strictest  sense.  As  I  have  before 
remarked,  I  felt  deeply  upon  the  subject  of  baptism,  and  desired  that  it  should  be 
by  immersion.  Finally,  the  edict  went  forth.  It  was  arranged  that  I  should  unite 
myself  with  the  church,  and  the  day  was  set  for  my  baptism. 

Having  reached  this  stage,  I  thought  what  a  glorious  thing  it  would  be  if  I 
could  get  my  dear  father  to  see  the  error  of  his  way,  and  come  to  Jesus,  as  I 
had  done.  The  thought,  once  entertained,  burdened  me.  I  pondered  long  and 
earnestly.  At  length  I  resolved,  if  it  were  possible,  to  bring  my  father  and  my 
minister  together,  for  I  fully  believed  that  Mr.  Morse,  if  he  could  have  the  oppor- 
tunity, would  not  fail  of  effecting  a  change  in  the  dear  man's  views  and  feelings. 
Never  mind  how  I  went  about  the  work.  Suffice  it  for  me  to  say  that  I  contrived 
the  meeting  as  I  had  wished.  My  father  had  consented  to  receive  and  entertain 
tin'  clergyman  who  was  to  baptize  me,  and  dismissed  his  school  much  earlier 
than  usual  in  order  that  he  might  properly  entertain  his  guest.  But  I  had  not 
let  him  know  my  object.  If  he  suspected  it,  I  had  made  no  sign.  I  had,  however, 
duly  informed  my  minister  of  my  object,  and  had  urged  him  to  come  prepared  to 
lead  my  erring  father  to  the  true  Gospel  light  and  life. 

The  hour  arrived,  and  with  it  came  my  minister,  with  my  father  at  home  to 
receive  him.  The  tea  table  was  cleared  and  set  aside,  and  then  followed  conver- 
sation. My  father  was  a  modest,  unobtrusive  man.  and  would  not  begin  an  argu- 
ment with  an  opponenl  in  his  own  house:  but  his  head  and  face  betokened  an 
intellect  of  exceptional  power,  and  evidently  the  young  minister  was  not  eager  to 
assail  him.  At  Length  I  discovered  that  I  must  bring  on  the  controversy  myself, 
and  I  did  it  by  remarking  to  the  visitor-  that  my  father  had  embraced  a  faith 
that  I   feared    would    resull    in    his   final    and   eternal   ruin. 

"Ah!"   said   the    minister,   "what    is   that?" 

"Why,"  I  replied,  "he  professes  to  believe  that  Cod  will  eventually  save  every 
human  being.  Really,  lie  does  not  believe  in  the  eternal  torments  of  the  wicked, 
nor   in    a    hell    set    apart    for   that    work." 

The  minister  appealed  to  my  father  to  know  if  I  had  stated  the  case  truly, 
and  was  briefly  answered  in  the  affirmative. 


EUNICE    HALE    WAITE    COBB.  17 

"Indeed!"  cried  Mr.  Morse,  with  much  surprise.  "I  can  not  understand  how 
you   can  give   credit   to   a  doctrine   so    utterly   opposed   to   the    Word  ot   God." 

My  father  replied  with  perfect  good  nature  and  calm  sincerity,  that  he  did 
not  think  he  could  be  iud d   to   believe    anything   opposed    to  the  Word  of   God. 

"As  for  the  doctrine  of  the  final  holiness  and  consequent  happiness  of  all  < ; •  .< I - 
children,  I  find  it  taught,  first,  in  the  very  nature  of  the  almighty    and   omniscient 

Father;  ami,  next.  I  And  it   plainly  set  forth    in   the  Bible,  from    beginning  to  end." 

I  may  remark  here  that  three  simple  words  from  my  father's  lips  sent  a 
strange  thrill  to  my  heart.  He  had  said,  "final  holiness,  and  consequent  bappiness, 
of— what?— all  God's  children!"  How  differently  it  sounded  from  "all  mankind."  or 
",:ll  men,"  or  "everybody,"  as  we  Limitarians  were  fond  of  putting  it. 

But  the  minister  had  come  prepared,  and  he  set  himself  to  the  work.  He 
commenced  in  a  sort  of  pitying  tone,  as  though  in  sorrow  for  the  ignorance  of 
one  who  knew  so  little  of  Scripture.  Then  he  assumed  a  patronizing  air,  as  of 
one  who  was  willing  to  instruct;  and  he  concluded  in  true  heroic  style.  He  had 
put  forth  the  grand  force  of  argument  of  which  he  was  master,  quoting  freely  and 
glibly  from  the  Holy  Text,  pouring  out  assertions  and  propositions  fresh  from  use 
in  his  late  revival  work,  and  winding  up  with  an  earnest  appeal  t<>  his  hearer  to 
save  himself  while  yet  there  mighl   he  time. 

I  saw  an   easy,   waking  smile    upon    my   father's   face   as   he    prepare, I   to   speak 

in  reply.     He  had   listened   in   silence,   and  with  profound   attention.      H immenced 

by  presenting  what  he  deemed  to  be  the  true  (diameter  of  God.  From  this  he 
made  four  direct  propositions:  First- Did  God  have  in  mind  a  definite  purpose 
when  he  entered  upon  the  work  of  creating  and  peopling  the  world?  Second- 
Considering  that  he  created  children  in  his  own  image,  what,  from  his  known 
Character  and  attributes,  must  have  been  the  nature  of  that  original  purpose? 
That  is;— If  he  had  an  end  in  view  in  creating  man.  what  was  that  end?  Third— 
Considering  that  God  is  the  sole  and  only  creator.— that  all  things  are  by  him 
created,— would  he  have  been  likely  to  deliberately  create  a  power  whose  whole 
end  and  aim  of  life  should  be  to  frustrate  the  grand  and  holy  purposes  of  his 
Maker?  Fourth— All  things  considered,— if  God  had  a  plan  in  view  in  the  morning 
of  creation,  may  we  not  have  faith  to  believe  that  he  will  carry  it  out  to  the  end. 
Or.  if  In-  is  to  fail  of  accomplishing  his  purpose,  what  reason  have  we  to  put  faith 
in  anything  under  the  sun?  "And.  sir."  said  my  father.— I  can  remember  his  very 
words  and  his  wondrous  look,— "you  would  tell  me  that  even  after  God  himself 
has  come  down  to  earth,  taken  on  tin'  human  form,  and  offered  himself,  through 
a  cruel,  ignominious  death,  upon  the  cross,  lor  the  purpose  of  accomplishing  a  sal- 
Nation,  which  hi'  so  Lamentably  failed  to  accomplish  when  he  had  the  work  fresh 
ami  new  in  his  hands,— you  will  tell  me  that,  after  all  this,  the  result  so  earnestly 
desired  by  the  Almighty  Father  must  depend  upon  the  will  and  caprice  of  the 
poor,   Unite,   erring  and   bewildered   child  and   subject!" 

Mr.  Morse,  it  was  plain  to  be  seen,  was  feeling  uncomfortable.  J'<ut  he  ral- 
lied, after  a  strong  effort,  and  presented  more  argument.  My  father,  however,  with 
the  Bible  texts  fresh  in  mind,  met  him  at  every  turn,  and  bent  hack  his  own  argu- 
ments and  admissions  upon  himself.  At  length  with  a  tremor  in  his  frame,  which 
1  Could  not  fail  to  see.  my  minister  looked  at  his  watch,  and  said  he  was  sorry  to 
leave,  hut    he   must   do  so.  as  the  hour  set    for  his  prayer-meeting   was   nigh   at    hand. 

I  was  in  an  agony  of  doubt  and  mental  unrest.  I  could  not  hear  it  that  the 
argument   should  end   as    it    then    stood— with    all    in    my   father'-    favor.     One   point 


48  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

which  I  had  deemed  conclusive,  and  beyond  any  one's  power  to  demolish,  had  not 
yet  been  put  forward;  and  I  determined  to  present  it;  and  I  did  it,  boldly— desper- 
ately: 

"Father,"  said  1,  "one  thing  in  the  New  Testament  you  have  forgotten:  the 
parable  of  the  rich  man  and  Lazarus.  How  can  you  dispose  of  that  in  a  manner 
consistent  with   your  belief?" 

He  laid  his  hand  upon  my  head,  tenderly  and  affectionately.  "My  dear  child." 
he  said,  with  a  warming,  happy  smile,  "that  is  one  of  the  plainest  and  most  simple 
stories  told  by  our  Savior  —  and  told  for  a  purpose,— a  figure,  as  you  can  see,  bor- 
rowed whole  cloth  from  the  heathen  legends  of  the  old  Mythologies.  Surely,  you 
can  not  imagine  that  Christ  intended  to  present  a  literal  hell  in  that  figure  of 
llttih-x.  with  Elysium  upon  one  hand,  and  Tartarus  upon  the  other,  and  the  River 
Styx  running  between,— Lazarus  upon  one  shore,  and  Dives  upon  the  other,  con- 
versing  over  the  Stygian  abyss!"  And  he  was  going  to  explain  further  when  the 
minister's  watch  came  out  again,  and  he  said  he  must  go.  I  asked  him  to  wait  a 
moment,  and  I  would  accompany  him.  I  could  not  bear  to  be  left  alone,  just  then, 
with  my  father.  On  our  way  to  the  meeting-house  we  were  mostly  silent.  Not 
n  word  was  spoken  in  allusion  to  the  late  discussion.  Arriving  at  the  vestry,  I 
took  my  seat  with  my  sisters,  and  then  gave  myself  up  to  thought.  At  this 
meeting,  called  for  meditation  and  prayer,  I  was  to  relate  my  experience  for  the 
last  time  previous  to  my  baptism  and  admission  into  the  church.  When  I  was 
called  upon  to  speak,  I  arose,  and  tremblingly  (for  my  heart  was  painfully  wrought 
upon)  asked  that  my  baptism  might  be  suspended  (that  was  the  word  I  used);  and 
I  further  said  that  I  made  the  request  after   serious  deliberation. 

An  old  lady,  sitting  a  few  pews  removed  from  me,  spoke  up  quickly  and 
excitedly:— "Aha!  I  guess  you've  been  taught  in  Master  Locke's  school  since  you 
were  with  us  last!"  (My  father  is  even  to-day  remembered  in  Hallowed  as  "Master 
Locke.") 

The  remark,  so  impudently  uttered,  gave  me  strength.  "No,"  said  I,  firmly 
ami  steadily,— "I  have  been  taught  in  Christ's  school;  and  I  will  seek  further 
instruction    from    I  he   same   divine   and  blessed  source." 

The  minister  said  not  a  word;  he  only  bowed  acquiescence.  He  knew  what 
I  meant.  I  will  only  add,  that  I  went  to  my  home  and  sought  the  instruction  of 
which  I  had  spoken.  I  sought  it  earnestly,  humbly,  and  honestly;  and.  thank  God! 
very  soon  my  soul  was  basking  in  the  full  glory  of  my  heavenly  Father's  bound- 
less and   unswerving  love.     I  had  become  a  Universalis!. 

In  May,  1821,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  she  commenced  a  diary,  which 
she  kept  to  the  day  of  her  death.  "There  are  many  volumes,"  writes  her 
son,  "which  are  left  to  us  who  prize  them  as  a  hlessed  inheritance,"  and  he 
kindly  copies  the  opening  and  significant  entry  in  her  journal. 

Mw  8th,  1821:  Eave  been  indulged  this  evening  with  a  privilege  never  before 
i.y  me  enjoyed;  have  heard  the  universal  love  of  God  publicly  contended  for  by 
Rev,  Sylvanus   Cobb,   a,   preacher   <<(   the    Universalis!    order.     Indeed,    my  soi;l  has 

been  abundantly  feafeted!     How  animating    how  heart-cl ring   the  subject  of  Cod's 

universal    and    Impartial    benevolence!     To    me  it   seems   the   most    glorious  theme 

men    or   angels   call  dwell    upon;   and   though    I    have  never  before    heard    the   doctrine 


EUNICK     BALE    WAITE    COBB.  49 

publicly  proclaimed  from  the  pulpit,  yel  I  have  long  enjoyed  a  Arm  belief  therein, 
an<l  have  derived  great  satisfaction  therefrom.  It  is  now  about  ;i  year  and  a  half 
since  I  fully  burst  the  harrowing  bonds  of  the  narrow  cr I  of  partialism— man- 
mad* — and  found  lighl  and  joy  in  the  glorious  field  of  God's  universal  and  impar- 
tial love:  and  [  And  I  can  gather  daily  of  its  wholesome  and  delicious  fruits  a 
fresh  supply;  and  should  I  in'  spared  to  the  common  age  of  man,  and  he  permitted 
to  range  the  same  broad  Held  of  glowing  grace,  and  partake  of  tin-  heavenly 
bounties,  I  surely  shall  find  a,  spiritual  food  sufficient  for  all  my  wants.  In  the 
good    Father  I   fear   not    to   trust. 

The  preacher  of  the  sermon  which  Eunice  thus  describes,  in  a  little  more 
than  a  year  became  her  husband,  and  from  that  time  on  in  his  household 
she  wrought  "good  and  not  evil  all  the  days  of  her  life." 

They  were  married  in  Hallowed,  Me.,  at  her  step-father's  house,  on 
Sept.  10th,  1822.  Mrs.  Cobb  became  the  mother  of  nine  children,  all  of 
whom  lived  to  call  her  blessed.  Sylvanus,  Jr.,  the  celebrated  author,  who 
has  been  most  helpful  to  me  in  gathering  facts  relative  to  his  noble  mother's 
life,  was  born  June  5,  1823;  Samuel  Tucker,  born  June  11,  1825;  Eunice 
Hale,  bom  April  15,  1827;  Eben,  born  Jan.  17,  1829;  George  Winslow,  born 
March  31,  1831;  Sarah  Waite,  born  Dec.  1,  1832;  Cyrus  and  Darius  (twins i, 
born  Aug.  6,  1834;  James  Arthur,  born  Dec.  22,  1842.  The  youngest  of 
these,  James  Arthur,  died  Feb.  24,  1852;  Sarah  Waite,  died  Jan.  17,  1853; 
Eunice  Hale  (wife  of  Lafayette  Culver),  died  Sept.  29,  1871.  Kev.  Sylvanus, 
D.D.,  the  husband  and  father,  died  Oct.  31,  1860,  aged  sixty-eight  years  and 
three  months,  of  hypertrophy  of  the  heart.  Dr.  Cobb  was  among  the  most 
eminent  of  his  own  church,  and  of  the  clergy  of  his  times.  He  was  author 
of  a  "Commentary  on  the  New  Testament,"  a  "Compend  of  Divinity,"  and 
several  other  works.  As  a  preacher,  he  was  eloquent,  a  deep  scholar,  and 
profound  thinker.  He  founded,  and  for  many  years  edited,  the  "Christian 
Freeman." 

Asa  minister's  wife,  Mrs.  Cobb  was  first  settled  in  Waterville,  Maine; 
her  second  settlement  was  in  Maiden,  Mass.;  her  next  change  was  to  their 
twenty-two  years'  home  in  East  Boston,  with  which  church  she  was  con- 
nected forty  years.  This  home  was  so  pleasant  a  resort  for  students,  and 
they  at  all  times  found  such  a  spirit  of  unity  and  loving  communion  among 
its  inmates,  that  they  named  it  the  "Castle  of  Peace."  Rev.  J.  (i.  Adams, 
D.D.,  says  of  our  sister: — "No   woman,  since   the   Christian   church  began, 


50  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ever  had  more  unquestionably  been  called  to  the  office  of  a  minister's  wife 
than  she.  Faithful  to  aU  the  interests  of  home,  she  took  an  equally  active 
interest  in  the  work  of  her  husband.  She  ever  waited  upon  the  Lord  with 
joy  and  gladness.  She  was  sincere,  sunny-souled  and  sympathetic." 
Mrs.  Cobb  was  also  constantly  alive  in  all  the  great  reforms.  In  the  cause 
of  temperance  she  was  an  effective  worker  and  speaker.  '  In  her  speeches 
she  was  cheery  and  pathetic  by  turns,  and  consequently  was  welcomed  by  all 
who  listened.  She  wrote  a  good  deal  for  our  papers,  wrote  in  prose  and 
verse ;  she  wrote  and  published  a  very  tender  memorial  of  her  son,  James 
Arthur.  After  her  son's  death,  many  of  our  people  will  remember  that  while 
her  heart  was  full  of  sorrow,  she  woidd  often  say  that  for  years  she  had 
been  "proud  to  be  the  mother  of  men,  but  now  she  was  prouder  to  be  the 
mother  of  an  angel." 

The  most  and  best  of  her  writings  were  of  personal  and  local  interest. 
In  her  correspondence  with  friends,  in  her  letters  of  condolence  to  the 
bereaved,  she  was  touchingly  tender  and  sympathetic.  She  was  so  sin- 
cere in  her  sympathy  that  bereaved  ones  felt  she  had  drunk  with  them  the 
cup  of  bitterness.  One  of  her  friends  writes  me, — "If  you  had  space  in 
your  book,  I  could  tell  you  stories  of  her  ministrations  at  the  bed-side  of 
the  sick  and  dying,  that  might  truly  be  deemed  sublime."  We  know  that 
many  are  living  to-day  who  hold  her  in  sweet  remembrance,  and  who 
never  think  of  her  but  with  blessings  welling  up  from  their  hearts.  Her 
eldest  son,  Sylvanus,  writes, — "The  heart,  the  great  and  noble  heart  of  the 
woman  shone  forth  in  its  fullness  of  goodness,  in  its  Christian  trustfulness 
and  faithfulness,  most  clearly,  when  she  wrote  of  hope  and  faith,  as  inspired 
by  her  religious  belief.  It  was  when  her  pen  was  winged  with  the  spirit  of 
Universalism  that  her  powers  were  most  fully  shown." 

Her  lfist  letter  was  written  to  the  ladies  of  the  Physiological  Institute, 
of  which  she  was  a  member  for  thirty  years;  twelve  years  its  president  and 
fifteen  years  its  corresponding  secretary,  both  of  which  offices  she  filled  with 
ability  and  grace,  so  say  the  friends  of  the  Institute.  A  memorial  service 
in  honor  of  her,  acknowledging  the  great  benefit  she  had  rendered,  was 
given  under  the  direction  of  ihv  ladies  of  the  Institute,   in  Boston. 

Her  first  sign  of  failing  health  was  a  paralytic  shock,  and  there  is  some- 


Kl'NKT.     IIALK    WAITE    COBB.  51 

tiling  very  sweet,  as  well  as  pathetic,  in  the  resignedness  of  her  spirit  over 
her  great  calamity.     In  her  reply  to  a  letter  from  the  Institute,  she  says: 

Indications,  I  think,  are  favorable  tor  my  going  out  before  a  great   while.     Of 

course  I  musl   I autious  and   move  slowly.     My  general  health    is   good,  and  the 

arm  and  hand  arc  beginning  to  behave  very  kindly,  it  is  a  great  blessing  to  me, 
and  one  1  wish  to  be  thankful  tor,  that  my  right  hand  is  preserved  to  me;  that  if 
I  can  qoI  be  with  my  dear  sisters  in  person,  1  can  be  with  them  in  spirit,  and  Lei 
them  hear  my  voice  through  the  silent  Language  of  the  pen.  I  shall  always  be 
with  you  in  spirit,  and  most  devoutly  will  I  ever  pray  for  your  prosperity  and 
happiness,  and  I  hope  there  are  yet  many  happy  meetings  in  reserve  for  us;  and 
at  last  may  we  meet  in  the  shining  courts  above,  where  separation  is  never  known, 
and  where  we  shall   unite  in  songs  of  praise;  to  God  above,   the  God  of  everlasting 

love. 

In  all  troubles  she  recognized  the  hand  of  God,  and  bowed  submis- 
sively. 

The  following,  as  will  be  seen,  is  in  response  to  a  letter  written  to  Syl- 
vanus,  Jr. : 

"You  ask  me  to  furnish  you  a  letter  of  my  mother's,  that  you  may  pub- 
lish it  in  your  forthcoming  work.  I  have  looked  over  a  great  many  of  her 
familiar  missives,  but  do  not  find  one  which  I  would  be  willing  to  print 
entire.  That  which  came  to  her  loved  ones,  fresh  from  her  gushing  heart, 
with  so  much  of  warmth  and  thrill,  would  not  interest  a  stranger.  She 
wrote  most  emphatically  to  her  friends,  and  for  her  friends.  But,  I  will  give 
you  a  few  extracts,  and  they  shall  be  from  the  few  last  letters  that  she  wrote, 
written  with  one  poor  hand  hanging  limp  and  helpless  with  paralysis,  with 
weights  to  hold  her  paper  in  place.  Here  is  one  under  date  of  January  31, 
1880:—" 

My  Dear  Darling  Boy:— Here  it  is  Saturday  p.m..  and  I  will  begin  my  Sun- 
day's letter  to-day.  Bro.  Adams  (J.  G.)  will  be  hen'  to-morrow,  ami  I  must  save 
strength  to  talk  with  him.  Oh,  darling!  how  much  I  have  thought  of  you  to-dny. 
How  much  I  think  of  you  every  day,— but  particularly  to-day,  because1  it  is  the 
last  day  of  the  month,  and  the  swift  passing  of  time  brings  me  nearer  and  nearer 
to  the  home  above  and  beyond  this  present  home.  And  your  last  Letter  has  done 
me  so  much  good.  I  have  read  it  over  and  over  again.  Dear  one,  every  word 
you  say  is  true.  Q!  so  true!  What  would  life  On  earth  be  worth  if  there  were 
no  glimpse  through  faith  of  the  glorious  crown  of  immortality!  It  is  not  thai  1 
should  fear  to  die.  I  do  not  ask  this  faith  because  I  shrink  from  paying  the  great 
debt  of  nature.  But  I  ask  [or  it  that  1  may  have  respect  for  myself,— that  I  may 
feel  that  Life  is  worth  living,— thai  good  is  worth  striving  for  above  and  beyond  its 
mere  return  of  earth.     And.  above  all  else,  I    ask  for  thai  faith    because   it  makes 


52  OUK   WOMAN   WORKERS. 

life  grand,  and  gives  to  us  sublime  possibilities.  And,  further,  it  gives  a  substance 
of  joy  and  bliss  which  nothing  earthly  ever  gave,  and  which  nothing  of  earth  can 
take  away. 

Oh,  the  Christian's  faith!  Here,  in  my  quiet  chamber,  with  the  things  of  earth 
passing  away,  and  the  evening  drawing  nigh,  I  realize,  as  never  before,  the  worth 
of  that  faith.  It  bridges  the  dark  valley  of  shadows,  and  uplifts  the  soul  to  visions 
of  the  better  life,  even  while  lingering  on  this  side  of  the  vale.  Once  more,  my 
darling,— Blessings  on  our  glorious  faith! 

Shall  I  come  to  you  in  June,— my  month  of  fragrance  and  delight,— sweetest 
month  to  me  of  all  the  year?  You  know  June  has  been  my  favorite  time  for 
enjoying  your  beautiful  grounds  at  Hyde  Park.  We  will  live  in  hope;  and,  mean- 
time, with  our  blessed  faith  to  sustain  us,  we  can  cheerfully  say  to  the  good 
Father,— "Thy  will  be  done!" 


Sunday  Morning,  Feb.  29,   1880. 

My  Deab  Darling  Boy:— I  come  again,  on  this  Sabbath  morning,  to  talk  with 
my  first  born.  I  can  not  tell  you  what  comfort  your  last  dear  letter  gave  me. 
*  *  *  *  I  have  spent  two  happy  and  blessed  days.  There  has  been 
pain  of  body,  and  unrest;  but  the  sweet  love  of  my  dear  ones— and  of  my  friends 
everywhere— gives  me  a  peace  and  comfort  which  earth,  even  by  its  pains,  can 
not  steal  away;  and  my  faith  in  the  dear  Redeemer  gives  me  rest  when  the  med- 
ications of  my  physician  fail  me.       *       *       *       * 

Darling,  I  have  been  thinking— thinking— thinking.  Tell  dear  Molly  that  she 
must  not  think  too  much  of  June.  I  do  not  dare  to.  I  will  let  it  rest  till  June 
comes.  I  think  it  is  very  doubtful  about  my  going  out  again.  If  I  can  be  any 
way  comfortable  here,  in  my  quiet  chamber,  I  will  be  content.  I  wait  patiently. 
To  go  to  Hyde  Park  and  be  with  the  dear  ones  there,  or  to  "go  home,"  and  be 
with  the  dear  ones  there— I  intend  to  be  prepared  for  either.  And  I  am  not 
afraid  of  the  result:   let   what   will  come,  I  will  feel   it  to  be  the  best.         *        *       * 

I  might  write  more— and  write,  and  write,  but  it  would  only  lie  to  tell  you 
how  much  I  love  you,  and  that  you  know  already.  So.  dear  boy,  I  will  lav  down 
my  pen   for  now.  you   can   sec   that  my  hand  is  tired:   one  poor  hand  has  to   do  it  all. 

I  Love  you!   I  love  you!    I  love  everybody.     Take  it,   with  the  blessing  of 

Mother. 

The  following  was  written  and  sent  to  her  son  not  long  before  her  death. 
Her  hand  had  become  very  weak  and  tremulous,  the  lines  were  straggling, 
but  it  is  a  pleasant  gleam  from  the  thoughts  of  a  devout  Christian  woman : 

THOUGHTS    ON    CREATION. 

When  the  creator  spake,  and  lighl  appeared, 

Ilis   great    command    chaotic    darkness    cleared. 
The   siin.   the   moon,   the   stars   to   being  came, 
Bathed  in  the  glory  of  celestial   (lame! 
And  then,  in  furth'rance  of  his  wondrous  plan. 


EUNICE     HALE    WAITE     COBB.  53 

In  his  own  image  he  created  man. 

(In  his  own   image.     O!  and  shall  we  add: 

Of  his  own   kith   and   kin,  for  good  or  had.) 

Above  all  other  things  of  living  kind 

To  man  was  given  a  progressive  mind,— 

A   mind  sufficient   f<>r  the  life  of  earth. 

Progressing  still  beyond  a  heav'nly  birth, 

And,  as  creation  qow  before  him  stood, 

He  looked  on  all  he'd  made,  and  called  it  good! 

Ages  have  rolled  on  ages  since  that  hour, 
When  once  again  appears  th'  Almighty  Power,— 
Again  that  grand  command:   Lei  there  be  light! 
And  Bethleh'm's  star  breaks  through  tin'  gloom  of  night. 
Man  shall  not  die!     Tin'  sleep  which  we  call  death 
Shall  find  a  waking  with  angelic  breath. 
A  solemn  joy  my  yearning  soul  enthrills; 
My  waning  life  has  triumphed   o'er  its  ills. 

I  am  well  aware  that  I  am  giving  a  good  deal  of  space  to  this  saintly 
woman,  but,  nevertheless,  I  must  make  an  extract  from  a  letter  written  just 
one  week  before  she  passed  away.  To-day  it  seems  fresh  from  her  willing, 
trusting  heart — from  her  very  "  heart  of  heart" — and  we  can  not  but  see  and 
feel  the  full  measure  of  her  unswerving  faith : 

Monday,  G  P.  M.    April  26. 

My  Precious  Child:—  *  *  *  *  It  may  not  be  too  late  for  me  to 
say  t"  you,  if  you  have  not  done  anything  yet  about  the  doctor,  you  need  not.  I 
am  feeling  somewhat  differently  to-day;  I  have  much,  very  much  to  live  for;  but 
I  can  nol  help  accepting  St.  Paul's  words:  "To  die  is  gain."  I  really  feel  so  in  my 
ease.  I  am  ready  and  willing  to  go;  and  I  do  not  feel  that  life  is  so  desirable 
that  I  should  shrink  from  submitting  to  the  will  of  the  good  Father.  Let  it  be  as 
In-  shall  will.  Surely,  and  from  the  depths  of  my  quickened  sense,  I  am  willing 
to  "go  home,  to  die  no  more."  Indeed,  it  has  come  to  lie  my  desire  that,  if  my 
health  can  not  lie  restored— and.  Oh,  I  could  enjoy  it  yet  to  live,— hut,  if  my  good 
health  can  not  be  restored,  then  let  me  go  home,  to  tin'  "dear  ones  gone  before." 
For  health  .and  longer  life  I  will  praise  the  Lord;  and.  if  he  lias  ordered  it  other- 
wise, I  still  can  bless  his  holy  name!  The  future  is  bright  and  beautiful:  and  in 
all  the  broad  expanse— narrowing  it  may  he.  to  the  final  sleep— there  is  no  shadow 
of  gloom.  I  know  you  will  love  your  own  dear  mother  all  the  same,  be  she  here 
on  earth,   or   with   the   ransomed   of  the   beyond! 

I   hle^>   my   children  again,   and   again,   and  they  will   never  cease  to  love 

Mother. 

And  her  beloved  son  adds:  "  Surely,  of  that  aged  mother,  as  of  those 
little  ones  whom  our  Savior  held  hi  his  waiin  embrace,  it  may  be  said,  « Of 
such  is  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.' " 


54  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  scene,  when  it  became  evident  that  the  end 
was  approaching,  during  one  of  the  visits  of  Sylvanus,  Jr.,  the  following 
occurred.  Read  it  with  interest,  for  it  is  her  loving  hoy's  account  of  his 
visit,  in  the  "New  York  Ledger:" 

"There  are  such  things  as  saints  on  earth;  and  if  mortals  may  ever  be 
apotheosized,  I  see  not  why  tbe  apotheosis  may  not  be  given  in  life,  as  well 
as  after  they  are  dead  and  gone.  Living  saints,  so  recognized,  might  be  a 
source  of  emulation  to  others. 

"Let  me  speak  of  one  dear  old  Mother  in  Israel,  who,  I  firmly  belfeve, 
is  drawing  near  to  the  shadowy  vale  with  garments  white  as  snow,  I  have 
known  her  many  years,  and  know  whereof  I  speak.  Not  long  since  I  visited 
her — confined  to  a  chamber  which  I  fear  she  will  never  quit  in  the  flesh. 
But  she  is  ready  for  the  transition,  and  waiting  patiently  the  summons  to 
join  the  loved  ones  on  the  other  side ;  willing  to  go — willing  to  stay,  if  it  be 
the  Father's  will.  The  last  time  I  saw  her,  I  spoke  of  the  purity  of  her  life, 
as  I  had  seen  it.  She  shook  her  head,  and  feared  there  might  have  been 
short-comings,  which  my  love  had  not  seen.     Yet  she  had  tried. 

"Yes;  she  bad  tried  to  keep  the  faith.  And  finally  she  took  from  her 
bosom  a  tiny  silken  bag,  suspended  from  a  button,  and  bade  me  see  what  it 
contained.  One  of  her  arms  was  paralyzed  and  powerless.  I  opened  it, 
and  found  a  little  book  of  six  leaves,  three  inches  long  by  two  inches  wide, 
and  in  it  written,— 'Rides  of  Life  I  Will  Try  to  Live.'  She  told  me  she  had 
worn  that  book  in  her  bosom  for  many  years.  Every  night,  on  retiring,  she 
pressed  it  to  her  lips — 'Once  for  my  husband  in  heaven;  twice  for  my  chil- 
dren; three  times  for  all  the  rest  of  the  world;  then  once  more  for  myself.' 
And  then  she  prayed  to  God  for  help. 

"I  copied  the  rules  she  had  there  set  down,  some  of  them  of.  her  own 
volition,  and  some  derived  from  others.  They  are  very  simple,  and  you  who 
can  not  sympathize  with  an  aged  mother,  grown  into  the  trusting,  winsome 
childhood  of  life's  evening,  need  not  read  them.  Let  me,  however,  premise 
that  she  had  given  her  heart,  in  childlike  love  and  trust,  to  her  heavenly 
Redeemer  many  years  before.  Tims  were  the  rules  set  down,  in  her  own 
fair,  nervous  hand :  (They  are  set  down  curiously  as  to  order,  but  it  is, 
probably,  the  way  they  occurred  to  her.) 


EUNICE    HALE    WAITE    COBB.  55 

Avoid  repetition. 
Avoid  loud  talking:— surely. 
Avoid  unfavorable  remarks  of  any  one. 
Avoid   till   unpleasant    allusions. 
Avoid  telling   your  own   troubles. 
Avoid  unnecessary  complaining. 

Avoid  all  sarcasm.  Flee  from  ill-tempered  speech  as  from  a  venomous  ser- 
pent. 

Avoid  all  fault  finding. 

Avoid  making  unfavorable  comparisons. 

Avoid  interrupting  others  in  conversation. 

Be  careful  to  observe  all  proper  rules  of  etiquette  at  table. 

Do  not  forget   your  glasses! 

Always   take   an   extra  pin! 

Be  careful   and   look,   before    yon   sit    down,   where    you  are   to  sit. 

Avoid   putting  your  hand  familiarly  on  another's  person   in   conversation. 

Be  careful   what   you   say;   where    you   say  it,   and  how   you   say  it. 

Avoid  unnecessary  conversation  with  strangers  in  public  conveyances. 

Avoid  putting  anything  in   another's   way. 

Avoid  conversation  by  whispering,  when  another  is  speaking,  singing  or  praying. 

Put  things   in  their  proper  places   when    you  are  done  with  them. 

"And  that  is  the  list  of  rides  of  daily  life  as  she  had  them  set  down. 
As  I  have  before  remarked,  or  hinted,  the  grand  lessons  of  Christian  life  and 
living,  those  sublime  precepts  of  the  divine  Master,  as  shadowed  forth  in 
the  Sermon  on  the  Mount,  had  been  incorporated  into  her  life  in  the  years 
of  long,  long  ago,  before  I  had  seen  the  light.  With  this  in  mind,  I  think 
we  may  regard  the  list  as  well  chosen.  I  know  it  is  simple;  and  so  is  till 
truth  simple.  In  short,  the  Master  was  pleased  to  set  up  a  little  child  as  the 
type  to  be  copied  by  those  who  would  surely  be  worthy  of  his  blessed  king- 
dom. At  all  events,  the  incident  was  a  pleasing  one  to  me,  and  Grod  grant 
it  may  be  of  profit  to  us  all." 

One  morning,  some  time  before  we  were  called  to  mourn,  or  rejoice, 
over  the  translation  of  this  beatified  spirit,  Dr.  J.  (t.  Adams  called  upon  her 
"in  that  upper  room,"  as  she  expressively  called  it,  where  he  found  the 
invalid  in  her  evening  of  life  contemplating  the  outlook  upon  the  city  and 
harbor,  and  the  golden  evening  sky.  It  had  lifted  her  heavenward,  and 
she  talked  of  the  coming  dissolution  as  though  it  were  but  the  brushing 
away  of  a  cloud.  At  his  departure  she  said,  with  a  beaming  smile: — "Tell 
my  friends  I  am  waiting  at  the  river,  in  joyful  hope." 

Mrs.  Cobb  died  at  the  residence  of  her  son,  George  W.  Cobb-     Her  obse- 


56  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

qvues  were  attended  by  Eev.  Drs.  J.  G.  Adams  and  A.  St.  John  Chambre, 
the  latter  a  former  pastor.  Dr.  Adams  was  eloquent  in  the  recital  of  her 
Christian  graces,  and  his  words  of  sympathy  to  the  friends.  Dr.  Chambre 
said  that  her  life  was  " '  hid  with  Christ  in  God' ;  and  her  chamber  of  illness 
was  radiant  with  Christian  hope  and  confidence,  and  peacefully  as  a  child 
she  went  out  from  us. " 

From  the  "First  Article"  to  the  last,  all  the  time,  in  every  thought  and 
in  every  aspiration,  she  was  ever  ready  and  willing  to  pass  on  to  the  brighter 
shore,  for  what  is  called  death,  was  to  her  but  the  passing  on  to  meet  the 
loved  ones  gone  before.  To  her  death  was  "not  so  much  as  the  lifting  of  a 
latch ;  only  a  step  out  of  a  tent  already  luminous  with  light  that 

shines  through  its  transparent  walls." 

The  following  is  a  beautiful  picture  of  mother-love  and  tenderness. 
This  good  woman  was  noted  for  being  careful  not  to  wound  the  feelings  of 
any  human  heart;  and  what  was  true  of  her  in  life,  we  may  say  was  true 
unto  death.  Only  two  days  before  she  closed  her  eyes  upon  the  scenes  of 
this  world,  her  son  saw  her  for  the  last  time.  She  was  so  glad  to  see  him, 
and  for  a  few  minutes  talked  lovingly  and  cheerfully,  but  finally  she  laid  her 
head  upon  his  shoulder,  and  said  to  him,  with  an  infinite  pathos,  a  tender, 
wistful  longing,  and  a  childlike  trustfulness; — "Darling,  I  am  homesick! 
T  want  to  go  home."  And  then,  fearing  he  might  think  she  wished  to  leave 
them,  she  added,  with  eagerness: — "You  do  not  blame  me,  do  you?" 

The  last  part  of  a  private  letter  from  her  eldest  son,  Sylvanus,  Jr.,  I  will 
quote  in  full,  and  hope  he  will  not  think  I  have  taken  an  unwarrantable 
liberty.  It  certainly  must  be  read  with  interest,  if  not  with  profit,  by  every 
mother  and  son.  He  says: — "Through  all  her  sickness  (and  her  entire 
sense,  keen  and  intact,  never  left  her  while  she  breathed),  through  it  ah  she  con- 
templated the  coming  transition  with  a  faith  and  trust  that  was  unfailing, 
unshaken,  sincere  and  heartfelt.  In  her  'heart  of  heart'  she  was  ready 
and  willing  to  go  whenever  it  might  please  the  good  Father  to  call  her 
home.  That  was  the  way  she  was  pleased  to  speak  of  it  always.  1  am 
writing  of  a  mother  whom  I  loved — whom  I  worshiped.  Think  of  it!  The 
Last  time  I  held  her  living  hand  in  mine,  1  could  look  back  over  more  than 
half  a  century  of    clear  and   well-defined  memory  of  my  mother's  life.     I 


MARY    CATHERINE    TRAY.  .57 

was  never  a  wrong-hearted  hoy,  but  I  was  a  bay,  strong,  vimmy,  head- 
strong, and  sometimes  reckless.  I  gave  that  mother  many,  many  seasons 
of  anxiety  and  travail  of  soul.  I  had  been  wayward,  and  I  had  wandered; 
yet,  in  looking  back  over  all  the  years  of  my  mother's  life,  I  can  say  this : 
She  never  struck  me ;  she  never,  never  spoke  to  me  a  hasty,  angry  word — 
never!  She  never  bent  upon  me  an  unkind,  unloving  look;  she  never,  in 
short,  spoke  to  me  a  word,  or  cast  upon  me  a  look  which  I  could  ever  wish 
to  forget,  or  to  blot  out!  How  many,  at  the  age  of  seven-and-fifty,  can  say 
that?  Do  you  wonder  that  I  loved  my  mother?  O,  what  a  blessed  thing 
to  me  is  the  memory  I  hold  of  her!  We  are  told  by  the  preachers  of  the 
day  that  no  man  can  live  and  not  sin.  Such  a  belief  is  an  outrage  upon 
humanity  and  a  slur  upon  the  God  who  made  us.  I  am  happy  in  the  belief 
that  man,  if  he  will,  can  hve  without  sin;  and  1  shall  always,  while  sense 
and  memory  are  mine,  cherish  deep  in  my  heart  the  blessed  belief  that  my 
now  sainted  mother  did,  while  a  dweller  on  earth,  walk  her  round  of 
daily  duties  for  many  an  hour  and  many  a  day — aye,  for  long,  long  seasons, 
without  sin.     She  may  have  erred;  that  is  human." 

"Glory!"  was  the  last  word  that  was  heard  from  the  lips  of  this  saintly 
woman,  responsive  to  the  sweet  music  of  the  Sabbath  morning  bells,  the 
solemn  melody  of  which  filled  her  chamber,  and,  as  peacefully  as  a  babe 
closes  its  eyes  in  slumber,  she  closed  hers  upon  all  that  was  earthly,  and 
passed  from  that  "  upper  room,"  into  the  Golden  morning  of  the  hereafter. 


MARY   CATHERINE   PRAY. 

Whose  maiden  name  was  Evans,  was  the  wife  of  James  B.  Pray.  She 
was  born  in  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  April  12,  180G.  Mrs.  Jane  L.  Patterson 
informs  us  that :  — "When  but  a  young  girl  she  began  to  write  verses.  In  look- 
ing over  those  which  have  been  saved  from  the  many  which  she  wTrote,  it  is 
plain  that  her  inspiration,  in  its  largest  measure,  came  from  her  faith  in 
God  and  his  purpose  of  good  to  the  world.     Almost  every  poem  hymns  his 


58  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

praise,  and  portrays  the  exultation  of  her  perfect  living  faith.  In  that  pleas- 
ant home  where  she  passed  nearly  all  the  years  of  her  mortal  life,  and  where 
she  reared  her  family  of  three  sons  and  two  daughters,  it  was  her  custom  to 
weave  her  rhymes  while  about  her  daily  cares,  and  never  commit  them  to 
paper  until  they  were  complete,  a  mental  process  requiring  strength  of 
memoiy  which  few  possess.  Not  always  did  she  write  out  her  singing  fan- 
cies. To  her  they  were  a  personal  resource,  and  she  cared  very  little  about 
seeing  them  in  print.  Few,  even  of  the  large  circle  of  her  friends,  knew 
how  apart  from  the  daily  cares  in  which  she  was  engaged  was  the  thought 
which  upheld  her,  and  the  inner  realm  in  which  she  revelled.  Sometimes 
she  sent  her  sympathy  to  mourning  friends,  or  wrote  a  hymn  for  a  church 
dedication,  and  in  this  way  some  of  her  poems  were  published:  but  by  far  the 
larger  number  were  heart  and  home  songs  alone. 

"But  Mrs.  Pray,  as  one  of  our  church  workers,  was  always  ready  when 
any  call  reached  her  for  help.  Skillful  with  the  needle,  she  wrought  for  the 
increase  of  the  revenue  in  the  Samaritan  Society,  and  through  its  fairs, 
and  deemed  no  offering  of  strength  and  time  too  precious  to  lay  upon  the 
altar  of  her  faith.  Few  have  loved  their  church  more  reverently  and 
intensely  than  she.  She  gave  it  the  devotion  of  a  long  and  faithful  life. 
Never  absent  from  the  Sunday  services  when  it  was  possible  to  be  present, 
she  was  indeed  one  who  sat  at  her  Master's  feet  in  all  humility,  like  Mary, 
while  she  remembered  with  equal  fidelity  to  serve  as  did  Martha.  The  long 
line  of  pastors,  some  of  whom  are  alive  at  this  time,  and  some  have 
gone  to  the  life  immortal,  had  in  Mrs.  Pray  a  true  and  considerate  friend. 
She  took  the  minister  at  once  into  her  friendship,  and  believed  in  him  and 
listened  to  him  as  one  who  meant  to  find  the  good  and  pass  lightly  over  all 
imperfection  and  fault.  The  gray-haired  sage  and  the  young  man  but  j*st 
equipped  in  the  Christian  armor  shared  alike  in  her  wide  love  and  charity. 
The  faith  which  they  proclaimed  was  a  bond  of  indissoluble  union  between 
their  hearts  and  hers.  The  many  ministers  who  have  been  entertained  at 
her  house  remained  as  happy  inmates  of  her  memory,  and  became  an  inspir- 
ing circle  of  unseen  spirits,  to  cheer  the  after  days. 

"Hers  was  indeed  a  home  of  hospitality.  Its  doors  were  swung  wide 
i  pen  to  a  large  retinue  of  devoted  friends,  and  its  bountiful  table,  spread  by 


MARY    CATHERINE    PRAY.  59 

her  own  careful  hands,  was  the  center  of  unsparing  labor  as  hostess  and 
(  ntertainer.  Of  the  multitudes  who  have  gathered  there,  through  the  years, 
none  will  ever  forget  the  cheerful  grace  with  which  she  filled  her  sphere,  or 
the  delight  which  she  always  manifested  in  the  presence  and  service  of  her 
friends.  The  void  was  widely  felt  when  that  social  center  became  a  thing 
of  the  past,  through  the  translation  of  its  life  and  light. 

"No  picture  of  Mrs.  Pray  can  be  complete  which  fails  to  make  manifest 
her  wifely  and  motherly  devotion.  She  lived  in  the  love  of  her  family  in  an 
eminent  degree.  Her  husband,  sons  and  daughters  were  so  much  a  part  of 
herself  that  her  own  life  would  have  known  incompleteness  without  them. 
When  one  of  her  daughters  passed  through  weary  months  of  illness  to  the 
other  shore,  though  she  was  very  quiet  in  her  grief,  and  though  she  leaned 
upon  the  everlasting  arm  with  a  trust  which  death  was  powerless  to  disturb, 
she  felt  the  absence  keenly,  as  though  some  portion  of  her  own  being  had 
been  divided  from  her. 

"Among  the  sick  of  her  neighborhood  she  was  a  wise  and  ready  helper, 
giving  her  time  and  sympathy  freely,  and  lighting  the  shadowy  valley  by  the 
reflection  of  her  sure  faith  in  the  life  immortal.  Of  this  life  she  had  an 
inward  assurance  stronger  than  knowledge,  of  any  of  the  places  of  this 
world.  She  saw  its  beautiful  river,  its  tree  of  life,  its  happy  angels,  and 
Jesus,  the  Savior,  sitting  on  the  right  hand  of  God.  Her  faith  knew  no 
wavering  or  temporary  eclipse.  Of  earthly  sorrows  she  had  her  portion,  but 
any  shadow  of  this  world  only  brought  out  in  clearer  relief  the  exceeding 
glory  of  the  world  to  come." 

We  regret  that  we  have  space  but  for  the  following  selection  from  her 
writings : 

THE    HOME    OF    THE    HEART. 

The  home  of  the  heart,   where,    oh,  where   is   it    found? 
Say  where  shall   we  seek  it,  above  or  around; 
In  what  clime,  sphere  or  realm  is  this  mansion  so  blest, 
Oh,  where  is  the  ark   tor   the  dove  to  find  rest? 

Is  it  found  in  affection?  Too  transient  its  joys; 
Affection's  brighl   blossoms  time  quickly  destroys; 
Our  dearest   hopes  perish,  our  loved  ones  depart; 
Then  surely    affection's    no  home  for  the  heart. 


60  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

In  friendship?     Ah,  no,  not  the  friendships  of  earth, 
Although  this  bright  gem  is  of  heavenly  birth: 
Wealth  brightens  its  lustre,  there  homage  is  paid, 
But  soon  it  grows  dim  in  adversity's  shade. 

Where  then  shall  we  seek  for  this  haven  so  blest? 
There  sure  is  some  home  where  the  heart  can  find   rest, 
Else  why  these  soul-longings  for  something  more  pure, 
That  the  world  can  not  give,  that  will  ever  endure. 

Oh,  yes,  there's  a  bright  clime,  a  bright  world  of  joy, 
Where  love's  blossoms  fade  not,  nor  death  run  destroy, 
Where  the  pure  and  the  good  their  sweet  influence  impart; 
In  the  friendship  of  heaven  is  the  home  of  the  heart. 

There  the  sad  heart  will  rest  from  its  sorrow  and  pain, 
And  the  glad  heart,  its    blissful  emotions  retain; 
There  the  cold  heart  be  Avarmed  by  the  joys  of  the  blest, 
And  the  fond  in  the  spirit  of  sympathy  rest. 

This  Christian  woman  lived  to  the  age  of  seventy-three  years,  and  died 
Nov.  14,  1879.  We  will  close  the  memorial  of  this  faithful  life  with  the 
following  on  that  expression  of  the  Savior's  divine  self- surrender,  "The 
cup  which  my  father  gives  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it?" 

Dear  Savior,  when  the  dews  of  death 
Are  gently  gathering  on    my  brow, 
And  faint  and  few  the  pulses  beat, 
And  life's  swift  stream  is  ebbing   low, 
Sustained  by  thy  example   then, 
May  I  from  pain  nor  suffering  shrink, 
But  take  the  cup  my  father  fills, 
And  drink,    without  a  murmur,  drink. 


FRANCES  DANA  GAGE 

Was  one  of  the  great  forces  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Eminent  in  the 
literary  world,  and  rich  in  all  womanly  endowments,  she  was  one  of  the  prin- 
cipal of  the  many  who  aided  in  the  work  of  reform  during  the  dark  times  of 
the  nation's  peril. 

Frances  Dana  Barker  was  hom  in  Union,  Washington  Co.,  Ohio,  Oct. 


FRANCES    DANA    GAGE.  61 

12,  1808.  Her  parents,  Joseph  and  Elizabeth  (Dana)  Barker,  were  from 
New  Hampshire,  and  were  twenty  years  before  among  the  early  pioneers  of 
the  West.  Her  father  was  a  farmer  and  cooper,  and  the  daughter  was  early 
inured  to  the  tasks  that  occupied  her  father's  hands  in  the  new  country. 
She  acquired  the  rudiments  of  an  education  in  a  rude  log  cabin  in  the  woods. 
At  the  age  of  21,  Jan.  1,  182J),  Frances  Dana  Barkerwas  married  to  James 
L.  Gage,  of  McConnellsville  (Ohio),  a  lawyer,  and  an  earnest  abolitionist, 
whose  principles  she  had  adopted.  Engrossed  with  family  cans,  having  been 
the  mother  of  eight  children,  she  became,  notwithstanding,  a  great  student, 
and  contributed  to  many  journals  stirring  articles  on  temperance,  anti-slavery, 
and  the  rights  of  woman.  In  1853  she  removed  to  St.  Louis,  Mo.,  and  with 
her  constitutional  fearlessness  she  bearded  the  lion  of  slavery  in  his  den. 
The  penalty  of  those  days  was  social  ostracism,  with  threats  of  violence  and 
destruction  of  property.  Her  husband's  illness  compelled  her  removal  to 
Columbus,  Ohio,  where  she  edited  an  agricultural  paper,  but  the  war  de- 
stroyed its  circulation,  and  her  mind  was  directed  to  the  great  events  tran- 
spiring in  the  South.  Four  of  her  sons  had  entered  the  union  army,  and  in 
1802  she  went  to  Port  Royal  to  look  after  the  welfare  of  the  soldiers.  She 
labored  with  tremendous  energies  among  the  soldiers  and  freedmen  in  Beau- 
fort, Paris  and  Fernandina,  and  proved  herself  to  be  a  genuine  sister  of  char- 
ity. Seeing  so  much  to  be  done  she  turned  her  steps  to  the  North  to  engage 
the  zeal  of  others  in  the  great  work  which  she  saw  must  be  done.  Without 
remuneration  she  went  from  city  to  city,  organizing  and  addressing  aid  socie- 
ties. She  went  South  again  as  the  agent  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and 
visited  Memphis,  Vicksburg,  Natchez,  and  other  places.  In  September  she 
was  crippled  by  the  upsetting  of  a  carriage  in  Galesburg,  111.  She  began 
her  philanthropic  labors  on  her  recovery,  and  was  a  vigilant  laborer  in  the 
cause  of  temperance  when  her  activity  was  ended  by  a  stroke  of  paralysis  in 
August,  1867. 

Mrs.  Gage  has  been  a  voluminous  writer.  Over  the  signature  "Aunt 
Fanny"  she  wrote  sketches,  stories  and  poems  of  great  popularity.  "'Klsie 
Magoon"  is  a  temperance  story  of  great  interest.  "The  Saturday  Visitor," 
edited  by  Jane  Swisshelm,  the  "New  York  Independent,"  "  Ladies  Reposi- 
tory," and  other  publications  have  been  enriched  by  her  vigorous  and  versatile 


62  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

pen.  Few  men  or  women  exerted  a  wider  or  better  influence  during  her  useful 
life,  than  this  earnest  and  loving  philanthropist,  whose  level  head  and  warm 
heart  were  impelled  by  the  generous  religious  faith  she  cherished  and  pro- 
fessed. Her  own  words  are,  "  Temperance,  freedom,  justice  to  the  negro, 
justice  to  women,  are  but  parts  of  one  great  whole,  one  mighty  temple  whose 
builder  and  maker  is  God." 

The  name  of  Frances  Dana  Gage  will  forever  stand  among  the  noble,  faith- 
ful women  of  the  first  century  of  the  American  republic. 

She  writes  to  us  under  date  of  June  2,  1881:  "Yours  of  yesterday  is 
in  my  hands  to-day,  and  as  my  invalidism  makes  me  feel  that  it  is  not  wise 
for  me  to  put  off  till  to-morrow  what  should  be,  or  may  be  done  to-day,  1 
rise  from  my  bed  to  answer  your  note.  I  was  born  in  Ohio,  almost  in  the 
wilderness,  seventy-three  years  ago.  Nearly  all  my  friends  were  orthodox 
believers  except  my  father  and  mother  and  one  brother.  I  never  could  accept 
the  belief  or  doctrine  of  total  depravity  or  of  special  providence,  or  the  pow- 
er of  any  being  by  prayer  to  move  the  universe,  or  any  having  right  to  do  so 
if  he  could.  Consequently  I  was  led  into  association  with  the  Universalists, 
more  as  a  disbeliever  in  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  than  any  fixed 
faith.  My  home,  after  my  marriage  with  James  L.  Gage,  who  was  a  friend 
of  Stephen  E.  Smith,  of  New  York,  became  the  home  of  traveling  preachers- 
of  that  liberal  faith.  Father  Stacy,  Father  Kidwell,  Strong,  Jolley,  Davis, 
Sadler,  George  Rogers,  Woodworth,  Biddlecome,  Billings,  Flanders,  and 
many  others  whose  names  are  forgotten,  were  our  guests  for  days,  weeks  and 
even  months. 

"  But  there  came  a  time  when  they  refused  to  go  with  me  as  an  abolitionist, 
;in  advocate  for  the  rights  of  women,  or  earnest  temperance  pleaders.  Then 
it  came  to  me  that  Christ's  death  as  an  atonement  for  sinners  was  not  truth, 
but  he  had  died  for  what  he  believed  to  be  truth.  Then  came  the  war, 
then  trouble,  then  paralysis,  and  for  fourteen  years  I  have  not  listened  to  a 
sermon  because  I  am  too  great  a  cripple.  I  have  read  much,  thought  much, 
and  feel  that  life  is  too  precious  to  be  given  to  doctrines.  I  feel  at  ease  about 
the  future,  and  ask  my  soul  as  did  Whittier, 

"<>i    what's  i<>  be  or  what  is  done 
Wliv  Miicficsi    thou, 


Enara 


-  ^z^ 


JULIA    H.    SCOTT.  68 

The  past   and  th<'  to  be  are  one, 

And    that    is    now." 

"I  have  no  pros,  no  cons  about  it,  know  nothing  nor  seek  to  know.     ] 
don't  think  you  can  truthfully  call  me  anything  Imt  a  believer  that  all  is  well." 
The  following  is  a  favorable  specimen  of  her  style : 

DARE    TO    STAND    ALONE, 
lie  hold,  )><>  linn,  be  strong,   be  true, 

And   dare   to  stand    alone. 
Strike  for  the  right,  whate'er  ye  do, 

Though  helpers  there    be  none. 

Oh!   bend  not  to  the  swelling  surge 

Of  popular  crime  and  wrong, 
'Twill   bear  thee  on   to  ruin's  verge 

With  current   wild   and  strong. 

Strike  for  the  right,  tho'  falsehood  rail 

And  proud   lips  coldly  sneer: 
A  poisoned  arrow  can    not  wound 

A  conscience  pure  and  clear. 

Strike  for  the   right,   and   with  clean    hands 

Exalt    tln>   truth    on    high, 
Thou'lt  And  warm,  sympathizing  hearts 

Anions;  the   passers   by. 

Those  who  have  thought,  and  felt,  and  prayed. 

Yet   could    not    singly    dare 
The   battle's   brunt;    hut    by   thy   side 

Will  every  danger  share. 

Strike  for  the   right,   uphold  the  truth; 

Thou'lt  lind  an  answering  tone 
In   honest  hearts,  and  soon  no  more 

lie   left    to   stand    alone. 


JULIA  H.  SCOTT.* 


Caroline  M.  Sawyer,  in  her  excellent  biography  of  Mrs  Scott,  truly  says: 
"A  nobler  example  of  devotion  to  religious  principles,  of  never-sleeping  effort 


♦Julia  Scott's  Life  and  Poems  arc  published  in  a  line  volume  by  t  he  Universal- 
is! Publishing  House,  edited  by  Mrs,  c.  y\.  Sawyer.  The  facts  and  recollections 
in   this   book   arc   from   that    work. 


64  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

to  sustain,  both  by  precept  and  example,  the  doctrine  of  her  Savior,  we  be- 
lieve can  scarcely  be  found ;  and  it  is  our  great  desire  and  prayer  to  God  that 
that  example,  however  imperfectly  it  may  be  presented,  may  perform  its  legiti- 
mate work  by  leading  many  others  of  our  sex  to  the  same  devotion  to  God, 
the  same  love  to  our  Savior,  and  the  same  overmastering  desire  to  live  the 
life  of  a  Christian  woman,  that  rilled  and  animated  her." 

Julia  H.  Kinney  was  born  in  Sheshequin,  Penn.,  Nov.  4,  1801),  the  eld- 
est of  a  family  of  nine  children.  She  was  fortunate  in  passing  her  childhood 
and  youth  amid  scenes  as  beautiful  as  earth  contains.  Mrs.  Sawyer  charm- 
ingly describes  the  locality  from  personal  observation:  "Far  away  from  the 
confused  and  noisy  world,  embowered  like  some  sweet  picture  in  the  depths 
of  a  gigantic  emerald  vase,  lies  the  charming  valley  of  Sheshequin,  hidden 
among  the  beautiful  Alleghenies.  The  northern  branch  of  the  noble  Sus- 
quehanna, with  many  a  green  island  sleeping  on  its  breast,  pursues  its  tran- 
quil course  through  the  valley,  while  all  around,  on  the  north,  the  east,  the 
south,  yea,  on  the  west  also,  meet  towering  mountains,  which,  lifting  their 
shaggy  heads  above  the  clouds,  seem  to  shut  out  the  whole  world.  Never 
did  nature  more  fully  realize  the  description  of  Johnson's 'Happy  Valley,' 
than  in  this  little  mountain  fastness.  It  is  but  a  strip  of  intervale  of  the 
richest  soil,  scarcely  two  miles  in  width  at  its  widest  point,  and  six  or  seven 
miles  in  length;  and  like  the  'Happy  Valley,'  permitting  ingress  and  egress 
only  at  the  narrow  gorges  where  the  river  itself  has  broken  its  jagged  way 
through  the  mountains." 

When  but  four  years  of  age,  her  father  was  stricken  with  blindness,  and 
it  became  the  duty  of  his  little  daughter  to  conduct  him  by  the  hand  from 
place  to  place,  a  habit  that  became  a  second  nature  to  the  darling  child,  who 
learned  much  from  the  outward  world  while  performing  tins  weary  task.  As 
she  grew  older,  she  became  interested  in  books,  and  easily  learned  the  rudi- 
ments of  an  education  from  the  common  school,  but  the  marvelous  beauty 
amid  which  she  moved  was  photographed  on  her  mind;  and  a  passionate 
love  for  all  natural  objects  s^ave  to  heart  and  spirit  a  precocious  development. 
For  years  her  sole  reading  was  the  Bible  and  Bums.  With  these  hooks  in 
hand  she  sought  the  many  lovely  spots  about  her  dwelling,  and  the  sights 
and  sounds  of  nature  mingled  with  what  she  saw  and   read,  and  she  grew 


JULIA    II.    SCOTT.  66 

mentally  and  spiritually  with  each  succeeding  year.  The  body  sympathized 
with  the  spirit,  and  the  chubby  incarnation  of  health  grew  into  a  slender 

woman,  whose  lustrous,  soulful  eyes  expressed  the  imaginative  poet.  At  the 
early  age  of  twelve  she  became  a  contributor  to  the  Philadelphia  "Casket" 
and  the  New  York  "  Saturday  Evening  Post,"  and  from  this  date  onward  her 
writings  for  the  press  were  frequent  and  copious. 

In  January,  1820,  a  Universalist  paper,  called  the  "Candid  Examiner," 
was  started  in  Montrose,  Penn.,  and  during  the  two  years  of  its  existence, 
Julia,  then  sixteen,  frequently  wrote  for  it.  Her  articles  were  imbued  with 
a  deep  religious  spirit;  indeed,  the  then  new  and  rising  faith  in  universal  sal- 
vation was  embraced  by  her  with  all  the  ardor  of  her  enthusiastic  nature. 
It  was  the  religious  faith  of  her  home,  which  she  had  inherited  from  her 
honored  father  and  beloved  mother,  and  which  found  a  congenial  soil  in  her 
blight  intellect  and  affectionate  heart. 

In  1831,  when  she  was  twenty-two  years  old,  she  was  brought  to  the 
notice  of  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  the  then  editor  of  "  The  Magazine  and  Advocate,"' 
and  at  his  request  she  began  to  write  for  his  paper.  It  is  impossible  to  real- 
ize to-day  the  impression  that  was  created  among  our  people  by  the  appear- 
ance of  her  poems.  Our  ministers  were  few,  and  were  under  continual  war- 
fare with  opponents  from  all  quarters.  The  doctrines  they  advocated  were 
hated  with  a  relish,  "despised  and  rejected  of  men,"  and  as  her  sweet  voice 
was  heard,  singing  in  fitting  strains  the  new  gospel,  it  seemed  to  them  as 
though  an  angel  were  encouraging  them  in  their  arduous,  but  loving  duty  to 
defend  nobly  Christ's  cause.  She  was  hailed  as  an  "angel  helper."  It  was 
as  when  the  army  of  France  was  well-nigh  overwhelmed  by  its  enemies,  and 
the  beautiful  Joan  Dare  rallied  them  to  victory  over  their  foes.  Stephen  R. 
Smith,  A.  B.  Grosh,  A.  C.  Thomas,  T.  B.  Thayer,  and  a  few  others,  mostly 
youn^r  men  who  have  since  immortalized  their  names  in  our  church,  were 
cheered  by  her  advent  to  new  efforts.  Mrs.  Sawyer  describes  the  joyful  ex- 
citement that  seized  her,  and  that  pervaded  our  few  struggling  and  gallant  men 
and  women,  as  the  letters  "  J.  H.  K."  appeared  attached  to  her  inspiring 
poems.  "  Julia  "  came  to  be  a  beloved  name  wherever  our  people  were  found. 
A  contemporary  minister  is  quoted  by  Mrs.  Sawyer  as  Baying: 

"It   was  at  the  season   of  ministerial  trials  and   privations  of  which   1 


66  OUK    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

have  spoken,  and 'J.  H.  K.  appeared  as  a  co-worker  with  the  little  band  of 
religious  reformers  who  gave  themselves  with  such  untiring  devotion  to  the 
cause  of  their  crucified  Redeemer,  as  heralds  of  unlimited  salvation. 
Although  the  views  cherished  were  so  congenial  to  the  heart  of  woman,  and 
so  likely  to  be  embraced  with  aU  the  fondness  and  attachment  peculiar  to 
the  female  heart,  yet  the  reproach  and  calumny  that  prejudice  and  persecu- 
tion at  that  time  threw  round  the  profession  of  such  faith,  were  highly  cal- 
culated to  deter  the  gentle  and  retiring  spirit  from  giving  public  countenance 
to  doctrines  that  would  involve  repudiation  from  certain  classes  of  society, 
and  limit  sociahty  to  a  proscribed  few  of  corresponding  views.  Under  such 
circumstances,  the  noble  stand  taken  by  Julia  H.  Kinney  seemed  to  elevate 
her  above  her  sex.  By  the  young  servants  of  the  cross  she  was  regarded 
as  an  angel  helper,  whose  smile  of  approval  would  encourage  to  renewed 
efforts,  and  as  a  moral  heroine  that  merited  the  sympathy  and  friendliness 
of  all  the  household  of  believers.  To  them  she  was  like  Martha  and  Mary 
to  our  blessed  Lord,  when  he  labored  and  suffered  and  died  for  a  sinful 
world." 

In  response  to  the  suggestion  that  she  could  lighten  the  sorrows  of  the 
world  by  singing  her  precious  faith,  she  wrote: 

To  be  able,  in  any  way.  to  benefit,  interest,  or  even  amuse,  any  of  the  weary 
beings  thai  toil  their  way  through  this  "vale  of  tears,"  whether  our  efforts  are 
known  ami  appreciated  or  not,  whether  we  live  within  the  halo  of  fame,  or  sink 
beneath  the  pall  of  obscurity:  but  to  have  it  in  our  power  to  wipe  one  tear  from 
the  cheek  of  the  despondent,  to  cast  one  ray  of  light  upon  the  haggard  features 
<>f  misery,  oh.  the  individual  who  would  not.  at  this  gladdening  prospect,  feci  a 
deep  glow  of  gratitude  for  the  power  and  the  warm  promptings  of  ambition  to  put 
it  in  exercise,  must  possess  a  heart  colder  than  the  misanthrope,  an  imagination 
which  nothing  can  rouse!  Anil  is  this  power  mine?  Tin1  bare  idea  of  its  possi- 
bility has  gilded  the  dark  image-  of  lite  with  a  glow  which  they  never  wore  to  me 
before.      What    would    be   toil    and    privation?      How   would  these   small  considerations 

sink    into   insignilica when   contrasted   with  the   rich,  the  ample  reward   of  feeding 

that  our  efforts  have  met  with  success,  and  that  those  efforts  were  impelled  by 
disinterested  benevolence!  Should  F  ever,  through  the  emanations  of  my  yet  unex- 
perienced pen.  reap  this  sweet  harvest  of  perseverance,  1  should  then  remember  a, 
few  encouraging  words  Prom  Brother  <i.  as  a  powerful  and.  1  had  almost  said. 
(ii-st  stimulus  t"  exertion. 

Her  appearance  at  the  age  of  twenty  is  thus  described  by  Mrs.  Sawyer: 
"She  seemed  full  of  hope  and  happiness,  yet  looked  pale  and  somewhat  thin, 


JULIA    H.    SCOTT.  07 

for  even  then  the  shadow  of  that  disease  which  ten  years  afterward  laid  her 
in  the  grave,  was  falling  around  her.  We  well  remember  the  depth  and 
darkness  of  those  large,  soft  eyes,  so  full  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  radiant 
with  that  peculiar  luster  which  is  rarely  seen,  save  in  those  marked  for 
early  death. 

"A  slight  emharrassrnent  was  at  first  perceptible  in  her  manner,  hut  it 
soon  disappeared,  and  she  conversed  with  ease  and  fluency,  passing  from 
grave  to  gay,  and  from  gay  to  grave,  with  a  charming  facility;  discussing 
various  subjects  of  an  interesting  nature,  particularly  those  connected  with 
her  religious  faith,  with  a  tine  enthusiasm,  which  was  quite  inspiring  to 
those  who  listened,  and  which  brought  a  beautiful  glow  to  her  somewhat  pale 
cheeks.  We  left  her,  after  an  hour  thus  delightfully  spent,  with  a  mingled 
admiration  and  regret,  which  we  shall  never  cease  to  remember." 

In  May,  1834,  she  removed  to  Towanda,  ten  mdes  from  Sheshequin, 
and  began  the  occupation  of  school-teaching.  Here  she  "met  her  fate," 
and  on  May  2,  1835,  she  was  married  to  Dr.  D.  L.  Scott.  A  beautiful  home 
in  a  wilderness  of  flowers,  a  fond  and  beloved  husband,  and  all  the  elements 
of  happiness,  stimulated  the  flow  of  her  poetic  thought,  and  she  seemed 
destined  to  a  life  of  unbroken  happiness.  During  these  years  she  was  cheer- 
ful, delightful  in  her  communication  with  the  public,  never,  however,  losing 
that  devotional  spirit  that  was  her  nature.  Two  years  after  her  marriage 
came  a  daughter  to  the  home  circle,  and  at  the  same  time  was  formed  a  new 
and  blessed  friendship  with  one  of  the  rarest  spirits  that  was  ever  clad  in 
clay,  Sarah  Edgarton,  then  just  rising  into  a  fame  in  our  church  which  no 
other  woman  has  ever  achieved.  They  seemed  made  for  each  other,  and 
their  correspondence  was  a  continual  delight  and  joy  to  both.  Those  who 
would  know  more  of  these  rare  and  kindred  spirits  than  our  brief  limits 
will  allow  should  read  Mrs.  Sawyer's  "Life  of  Julia  Scott"  and  Eev.  A.  D. 
Mayo's  "Biography  of  Mrs.  S.  C.  Mayo."  They  are  books  that  should  never 
be  out  of  print.  During  this  happy  period  her  pen  was  busy,  and  some  of 
her  sweetest  poems  were  then  produced,  in  the  "New  Yorker,"  "Christian 
Messenger,"  "Magazine  and  Advocate,"  and  other  papers,  and  her  reputation 
was  continually  increasing. 

The  great  grief  of   her  life  came  when    her  darling   Marian   Almena 


68  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

was  removed  from  her  tender  care  by  death,  at  the  age  of  thirteen  months. 
She  never  recovered  from  the  sorrow. 

In  1838  she  attended  the  General  Convention  in  Boston.  Miss  Edgar- 
ton  describes  her  appearance  at  this  time,  after  sorrow,  and  the  illness  of 
which  she  ultimately  died,  had  begun  to  tell  upon  her.  "We  had  heard  her 
appearance,"  she  writes,  "described  as  'majestic,'  and  in  younger  and 
healthier  days  this  term  would  have  been  singularly  appropriate ;  but  at  the 
time  of  our  first  meeting  with  her,  sickness  and  sorrow  had  made  melan- 
choly ravages  both  upon  her  face  and  form.  Her  figure,  which  was  strik- 
ingly taU,  was  bowed  and  emaciated,  her  cheeks  hollow,  and  her  eyes  languid 
and  full  of  touching  sorrow ;  but  there  was  something  in  the  very  droop  of 
her  figure  which  seemed  to  us  eminently  graceful,  and  her  countenance, 
with  its  fitful  color,  that  came  and  went  with  every  transition  of  thought 
and  feeling,  and  its  glorious  black  eyes,  that  were  one  moment  radiant  with 
spiritual  joy,  and  the  next  drooping  with  the  intensest  melancholy,  was  one 
of  the  most  striking  and  intellectual  that  our  eyes  had  ever  rested  upon." 

At  the  Convention  she  was  the  "observed  of  all  observers,"  and  the 
extension  of  her  acquaintance  among  our  ministers  and  others,  and  the 
social  and  spiritual  enjoyments  of  the  occasion  were  many  and  great,  and 
did  much  to  assuage  her  sorrow.     She  thus  aUudes  to  the  Convention : 

How  like  ;i  dream  does  that  sweet  meeting  now  seem  to  me  —  dim  and 
shadowy,  and  yet  thrilling.  Not  one  countenance  there  that  i'<>r  an  instant  caught 
my  eye,  but  is  indelibly  pictured  in  memory.  I  shall  remember  them  all,  a  hun- 
dred years  hence,  in  heaven. 

"The  Last  Conference"  perpetuates  the  Convention  in  her  sacred  rhymes. 

THE    LAST    CONFERENCE. 

I  saw  a  glorious  multitude 

Bow  down  in  worship  there; 
While  lips,  at  heaven's  own  altar  fired, 

Si'iit   up  the  glowing  prayer; 
And  hymns  of  lofty   praise   were  sung. 

In  stirring  airs  of  <>iil; 
While  love's  white  banner  waved  aloft, 

In   many  a  silken  fold. 

I  saw  the  eye,  grown  dim  with  years, 
Flash  forth  unearthly  light; 


JULIA    H.    SCOTT.  (j<j 

The  mourner's  care-wreathed  brow  became 

With  heavenly  visions  bright; 
Ami   loveliness  seemed  lovelier  there, 

In  the  blessed  garb  of  truth; 
And  lisping  infancy  more  wise 

In  the  golden  lore  of  youth. 

It  was  a  glorious  jubilee  — 
A  high-wroughl   happiness— 

And  tears,  warm,  heart-felt  tears  alone, 

Could  tell  of  its  excess. 
Oh!    many  an   eye  was  moist,  that  ne'er 

Had  wept   for  joy  before, 
And  many  a  callous  heart  grew  soft 

Ere  that   blessed  eve  was  o'er! 

Was   not    our   Master  in  the  midst? 

Ye  cross-tried  soldiers,  say; 
Did  not  his  holy  spirit  breathe 

In  every  burning  lay? 
Did  not  his  melting  voice  supply 

Those  hallowed  words,  that  fell 
Like   manna  from   the    hand   of  God, 

To  fainting  Israel? 

Yes,  in  our  midst  that  form  beloved 

Stood  as  in   days  gone   by; 
We  knew   it   by  the  deep-drawn  breath 

And   the    uplifted   eye. 
We  knew  it  by  the  love  which  linked 

So  close  each   fervent    heart, 
Yet  gave   us  strength  with  smiles  of  hope 

In   the   last    sad   hour  to   pari. 

Oh!    never  more,  in   earthly   halls, 

Shall  meet   that   happy   hand; 
Already   some   have   traveled   home 

To  the  glorious   Fatherland. 
And  one  by  one,  we're  following  on, 

To  a  conference  above, 
Where  all  may  break  and  eat  the  bread 

Of  everlasting  love. 

A  second  child,  a  son,  was  sent  to  bless  her  home,  and  with  returning 
health  came  increasing  vivacity,  cheerfulness  and  literary  industry.  Some 
of  her  best  poems  were  contributed  to  the  "  Eose  of  Sharon."  But  the  re- 
turn of  health  was  only  temporary,  and  it  was  soon  impaired.  At  this  time, 
1840,  Julia  was  made  happy  by  a  delightful  visit  from  Miss  Edgarton,  who 


70  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

wrote :  "  We  found  all  that  was  lovely  in  the  poet  beautifully  illustrated  in 
the  daily  life  of  the  woman.  Genius  was,  with  her,  no  glittering  mirage  hov- 
ering over  a  barren  and  arid  life,  it  was  like  the  rainbow  mist  uplifting  itself 
from  the  bosom  of  a  pure  and  fertilizing  stream,  and  soaring  up  to  heaven 
in  incense  wreaths  too  sweet  to  be  wasted  on  an  earthly  shrine.  We  ram- 
bled with  her  through  the  mountain  passes,  and  bathed  our  brow  in  the  sil- 
very waters  of  her  native  valley ;  we  stood  with  her  by  the  bed  of  the  dying, 
where,  on  her  own  sweet  voice,  the  departing  spirit  was  wafted  up  in  triumph 
and  rejoicing  to  the  throne  of  the  Father;  we  sat  at  her  side  through  the 
simple  family  devotions  that  were  wont  to  ascend  from  her  own  fireside,  and 
in  aU  these  varied  scenes  and  acts,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  of  her,  that  the  poet 
and  the  woman  were  scarcely  different  phases  of  the  same  pure,  yet  lofty  and 
fervent  sold ;  that  the  priestess  wore  into  the  Holy  of  Holies  the  same  Urim 
and  Thummim  that  dazzled  the  eyes  of  those  who  saw  her  only  in  the  outer 
court  of  the  Temple ;  and  that,  as  of  the  Master  she  loved,  so  might  it  be 
said  of  this  faithful  servitor,  that 

'In  every  act,  in  every  thought. 

She  lived  the  precepts  that  she  taught.'  " 

Miss  Edgarton,  by  earnest  entreaties,  prevailed  upon  Mrs.  Scott  to  return 
with  her  as  far  as  Utica,  N.  Y.,  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  their  very  dear  and 
mutual  friends,  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh  and  lady.  Miss  Edgarton  says  the  journey 
was  comfortless,  and  that  though  Julia  was  feeble  her  perception  and  en- 
joyment of  the  ludicrous  were  never  more  active.  They  arrived  safely,  but 
on  the  second  day  after,  Julia  was  taken  violently  sick.  A  letter  from  Mr. 
Grosh  referring  to  this  visit,  says:  "  Soon  after  their  arrival,  Mrs.  Scott  was 
prostrated  by  severe  illness,  which  Dr.  Newland  considered  so  critical  as  to 
require  utmost  quiet  and  veiy  carefid  nursing.  Sarah  constituted  herself 
chief  nurse,  for  which  she  was  admirably  qualified,  and  Mrs.  Grosh  did  all 
in  her  power  and  means  to  aid  her  and  benefit  Julia.  Her  convalescence 
was  almost  as  speedy  as  had  been  the  attack.  But  even  when  able  to  sit  up 
in  an  easy  chair,  the  doctor  still  prescribed  careful  attention  and  every  amuse- 
ment and  employment  which  would  engage  the  attention  pleasantly,  without 
wearying  it,  and  prevent  thinking  and  anxiety.  He  understood  well  his 
patient,  whose  mind  and  heart  were  too  active  and  strong  for  her  body.     Am1. 


JULIA    H.    SCOTT.  71 

who  that  saw  (as  I  often  delighted  to  see)  her  glorious  eyes  and  perpetually 
changing  features  glow  and  brighten  in  reflecting  every  Hitting  thought  and 
feeling  of  her  soul,  as  the  lights  and  shadows  of  sun  and  cloud  change  the 
hues  and  forms  of  Held  and  forest  — who  that  saw  such  play  of  features  could 
fail  to  second  his  conclusions?  During  the  day,  inexorable  duties  to  a  large 
family  and  office  business  compelled  wife  and  self  to  devolve  nearly  all  care 
on  the  sweet  and  gentle  chief  nurse,  for  whose  use  we  provided  all  means  in 
house  and  office  and  collectable  from  friends,  especially  some  paintings  and 
pencd  sketches  from  the  studio  of  an  artist  friend,  and  rare  shells  from  some 
collectors,  for  Julia  had  once  playfully  said  that  she  never  fell  like  covet- 
ing anything  except  shells  and  pictures,  and  the  saying  was  remembered. 

"  But  when  evening  came,  we  met  in  the  invalid's  room,  all  prepared  to 
be  'at  our  best' for  her  amusement,  with  anecdotes,  droll  incidents,  and 
light  stories  of  amusing  adventures.  It  was  in  reference  to  these  meetings 
that  Sister  Julia  afterward  sometimes  spoke  of  'Bro.  Grosh's  Dutch  stories,' 
and,  verily,  I  exhausted  my  entire  budget,  down  to  the  very  bottom  of  my 
memory,  for  the  clear  invalid. 

"As  soon  as  Mrs.  Scott  felt  able,  and  the  doctor  permitted,  she  and 
Sarah  went  out  'shopping.'  On  their  return,  'Aunt  Hannah'  and  others  of 
the  family  had  loving  evidence  of  the  kind  regards  of  our  guests;  and  that 
evening,  poor  I  was  called  to  stand  up,  and,  in  due  form,  receive  from  Julia's 
hand,  in  behalf  of  herself  and  Sarah,  a  gold  ring,  placed  on  my  linger  by  her- 
self. Its  only  ornament,  externally,  was  a  double  heart,  or  twin  hearts, 
token  (as  she  said)  of  the  sisterly  affection  of  herself  and  Sarah  for  each 
other,  and  of  both  for  me.  Inside  the  ring  were  engraved  the  initials,  long 
and  well  known  and  ever  admired,  'J.  H.  S.'  and  '  S.  C.  E.' 

"  That  ring,  how  proudly  I  wore  it !  How  tenderly  it  stirred  my  memory 
every  time  I  saw  or  ft  It  it!  And  after  the  donors  had  ascended  on  high,  to 
our  Father's  house,  and  our  immortal  home,  how  priceless  became  the  jewel, 
and  how  unspeakably  rich  its  associations!  I  wo.re  it  till,  to  my  sorrow,  the 
circlet  became  very  thin  and  the  dear  initials  threatened  to  become  illegible, 
but  not  until  the  ring  broke,  could  I  prevail  on  myself  to  lay  it  aside.  I 
could  not  feel  it  right  to  have  it  mended.  It  is  as  it  became  and  was  in- 
tended to  become,  and  I  would  not  have  it  otherwise.     It  is  a  relic   among 


72  OUK   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

other  relics,  and  will  so  remain  to  me  until  I  rejoin  the  beloved  givers — the 
two  once  most  admired  and  best  beloved  among  '  the  sweet  singers '  in  our 
earthly  Zion,  now  the  sainted  and  glorified  among  the  stars  that  shine  and 
sing  in  the  Saviour's  galaxy  of  heavenly  hosts." 

Soon  after  this  happy  visit  a  dangerous  illness  seized  her,  and  she  writes 
in  January,  1841 : 

I  have  been  very  sick,  much  worse  than  when  in  Utiea,  and  have  about  done 
looking  for  oven  comfortable  health  in  this  sickly  world  more.  Everything  has  a 
bilious,  consumptive  look  to  me,  except  religion.  No  shadows,  thank  God!  can 
ever  darken  the  face  of  the  angel  of  light.     Her  smiles  are  ever  upon  us. 

From  this  time  on  her  illness  was  almost  constant,  but  she  was  able  by 
speUs  to  write  some  of  her  very  best  productions,  though  her  efforts  were  in- 
terdicted by  her  husband  and  physician,  as  they  proved  so  injurious  to  her 
bealth,  which  failed  more  and  more.     Her  last  entry  in  her  journal  was  this: 

It  is  now  nearly  a  year  since  my  last  entry  was  made,  and  it  may  lie  that 
Length  of  time  before  I  make  another. 

Fur  the  past  year  I  have  had  much  poor  health,  and  consequent  low  spirits: 
have  taken  one  journey  in  the  time,  and  enjoyed  much  happiness  at  home;  think 
I  have  made  some  advances  in  religion— I  mean  that  of  the  heart:  think  really  I 
am  somewhat  better  than  I  was  a  year  ago,  though  still  led  astray;  can  control 
my  passions  better,  and  am  better   guarded  against  besetting  sins.      God   be  blest: 

From  this  on  she  rapidly  declined  until  her  departure  came.  Her  hus- 
band writes:  "Julia  died  last  evening,  March  5,  1842,  at  seven  o'clock,  as 
she  had  often  wished,  easily  and  quietly,  without  a  struggle  or  a  groan.  The 
most  of  her  time  for  ten  days  before  her  death  was  spent  in  communion  with 
her  God.  She  told  me  yesterday  that  she  had  strength  given  her  to  pass 
the  preceding  night,  and  it  was  passed  happily.  I  am  alone  in  the  room 
with  her.     She  looks  calmly,  serenely  beautiful. 

"During  the  night  she  fancied  she  saw — and  it  amounted  to  a  firm  con- 
viction with  her— her  little  daughter  wading  about  in  a  limpid  stream  with 
pebbly  bottom,  with  beautiful  flowers  in  her  hands.  She  told  me  of  it  in  the 
morning,  and  it  seemed  a  real,  tangible  thing  to  her.  0!  if  I  could  realize 
it  as  she  did,  I  should  have  no  other  wish  than  to  arrange  my  temporal  af- 
fairs and  go  home  to  her." 

Miss  Edgarton,  Mrs.  Sawyer,  Rev.  D.  K.  Lee,  and  others,  wrote  affect- 
ing tributes  to  her  memory,  and  her  death   created  a  profound  sensation 


JULIA    II.    SCOTT.  73 

throughout  our  church.  The  death  of  no  woman  was  ever  more  deeply 
mourned  hy  our  people.  Mr.  Lee's  poem  was  one  of  great  merit,  as  these 
stanzas  show: 

Another  spirit  of  entrancing  song 

Lifts  holy  anthems  in  our  Father's  palace; 
One  seraph  more,  communing  with  that  throng. 

Presses  with  radiant   lips  life's  sweetest  chalice. 

The  world's  attractions,  dear  and  bright  to  some, 

Were  dull  to  her;— the  skies  contained  her  treasures. 

God's  Loveliest  angel  came  and  bore  her  home- 
she  drinketh  from  the  river  of  his  pleasures! 

As  some  bright   bird,  just   broke  from  wiry  cell, 

Against   whose  bars  its  struggling  pinions  fretted. 

Soars  o'er  the  rainbow's    arch  with  notes  that  swell 

More  exquisite,  more  ravishing  than  ere  'twas  netted. 

So  that   tired  spirit    burst   these  fleshly   hands. 

Bested  her  wings  upon   her  angel's  pinions, 
Sprang  warbling  up  to  greener,  sunnier  lands. 

And  breathed  her  holiest   songs   in   love's  dominions. 

The  subjoined  biief  poems  illustrate  the  strains  of  this  sweet  singer : 

CHRISTIANITY    IS    WHAT? 

Is  what,  dost  thou  ask?     'Tis  the  sunbeam  that  dries 
The  night-gathered  tear  from  the  violet's  eyes— 
That  warms   the   cold   earth    round   the   valueless  thorn, 
Ami  flings  through  the  darkness  a  beautiful  morn. 

What  is  it?     The   perfume  that    Meals  from   sweet  flowers 
When  the   siek   heart    is   pining  for  Summer's   loved  showers, 
The   raindrop   that    falls   on    the   desolate    leaf. 
The  oil  that  composes  the  billows  of  trrief. 

What    is   it?     The   young  breeze,    whose   pinions   unfurled, 
Stays  nut  till   their  choice  gifts   have   circled   the   world, 
A  harp-tone  at   midnight,  when  nature  is  still, 
Or  the   voice   of  a   dove    by   a    pine-shaded    rill. 

What    is   it?      A   star  on   the   wild-heaving  sea, 
Prostrating  the    proud   on   a    prayer-bended   knee, 
A   fire   that   relineth   the    metal    within. 
The   canker   which   gnaws   at    the    vitals   of  sin. 

What    is   it?     'Tis   mercy,   'lis  justice,   'tis  truth— 
The  stall  of  the  aged,  tin-  glory  of  youth; 


74  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

The  rainbow  of  promise,  to   brighten  our  tears 
A  lamp  in  death's  valley  dispersing  our  fears. 

What  is  it?      thou  askest.  thy  answer  is  there 
In  thy  own  swelling  heart,  with  its  beautiful  prayer. 
It  breathes  through  all  nature,    it  centres  above, 
'Tis  our  own  spirit's  essence,  'tis  Infinite  Love. 


THE    REVIVALIST. 

He  stood  by  the  altar,  a  being  of  gloom. 
With  a  visage  as  wan  as  a  ghost  from  the  tomb, 
And  he  lifted  his  voice  as  a  messenger  sent 
To  make  the  unsanctilied  sinner  repent. 

But  what  were  his  words'?     Were  they  such  as  were  spoken 
'Mid  the  wilds  of  Judea,  when  fetters  were  broken, 
When  the  poor  burdened  soul  burst  its  shackles  of  fear. 
And  rejoiced  that  the  kingdom  of  heaven  drew  near? 

Did  he  preach  to  his  people  the  gospel  of  peace? 

The  message  which  causes  the  mourner  to  cease? 

Did  he  melt  the  proud  heart  with  the  language  of  love. 

With  the  spirit  that  breathes  from  the  Changeless  above? 

Ah,  no!   nothing  like  it.      From  Sinai's  scathed  height 
He  had  snatched  the  last  phial  of  wrath  in  his  might, 
And  he  hurled  forth  its  contents  of  vengeance  and  ire, 
Till  he  made  every  hope  of  the  wretched  expire! 

He  heaped  o'er  each  vision  thick  clouds  of  despair. 
Ti'l  the  frozen  heart  sunk  with  its  ha  [-uttered  prayer; 
And  then,   like  Markanna,  he  turned  him  and  laughed. 
When  he  saw  that   his  victims  the  poison  had  quaffed! 

Ye,  ye,  who  have  listened  to  preaching  like  this. 
Till  ye  hung,  as  it  were,  o'er  the  pictur  d    abyss. 
Did  it  never  occur  that  ye  possibly  might 
Have   been    led    by   a   teacher  deprived   of  his   sight? 

Come  away— come  away  from   th  ■  saniiel's  breath. 
It  bears  on    its   pinions   the   arrows   of  de    th! 
It    will    wreathe   for    your   future   a   ehaplet    0     care; 
'Tis  the   whirl   of  the   tempest— the  Lord   is   not  there! 

Come   away!    for  as   well    migb.1    ye   stand   on   the   verge 
Of  Etna's  red  crater,  unharmed  by  its  -urge; 
Or  as  well   might,   you  drain   the   fell   dews  that   distill 
Prom   tin'  dark   upai  tree,  unattendel   with   ill. 


JULIA    H.    SCOTT.  75 

Come  away  to  the  beautiful  gardens  that  lie 
All  smiling  and  bright,  'neatb  a  soft  vernal  sky- 
To  the  fair  promised   land   where  the  waters  of  life 
Glide  smoothly  along,   unembittered  by  strife1. 

reaee   dwells   in  its   borders    the    penitent    one, 

Though  crimsoned  his  hand-  with  the  deeds  they  havo  done, 

May  find  a  sure  refuge,  from  guilt  and  despair, 

'Neath  the  banner  of  Truth,  for  Jehovah  is  there. 


THE    NEW    COMMANDMENT. 

A  new  commandment   I   give  unto  you,  that  ye   love   one   another;   as  I   havo 
loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another. 

What  was  the  love  of  which  he  spake, 

As  bearing  to  those  chosen  men? 
Was  it  the  love  which  time  can  make 

Indifferent    and  cold  again? 

Was  it  the  love  whose  strength  is  based 

On  vanity  and  worldly  pride? 
The  love  wine  i   one  slight  jar  may  waste. 

One  evil  breath  may  turn  aside? 

He  bade  them  lov  •  as  he  had  loved. 

With  that  deep,  faithful  glow  of  feeling. 
Which  lingers  on  unchanged,  unmoved, 

'Mid   blight   and   death   its  smiles  revealing. 

0  child  of  frailty,  if  within 

Thy  soul's  dark  book  one  leaf  remain 
Unlettered  by  the  hand  of  sin, 

One  bright  page   free   from   yieious  stai 

There  write  these  words  my  Savior.   Be 

The  influence  of  thy  spirit  given, 
That  I  may  ever  love,  like  thee. 

My   fellow-travelers   to   heaven. 


STANZAS. 

If  thou   wouldst   wake   within   thy   heart 

A  music  that   can    never  sleep— 
Wouldst  1  id  care's  sha  'owy  gloom  depart. 

And   smile   where  'erst  thou   could'st  but  weep— 

Go!  clothe  the  shiver  ng  orphan   boy. 

Who  wanders   lonely   through   the  streets; 


76  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

And  thou  shalt  know  such  depths  of  joy 
As  the  world's  votary  rarely  meets. 

If  thou  wouldst  have  thy  midnight  dreams 

More  beautiful  than  dreams   by  day, 
Like  perfumed  flowers  by  woodland  streams, 

Softer  in  moonlight's  trembling  ray- 
Go,  watch  the  eye  of  waning  health; 

Go,  whisper  words  of  hope  and  peace, 
And  thou  shalt  have  a  store  of  wealth, 

"Which  time  shall  bounteously  increase. 

If  thou  wouldst  have  thy  latest  breath 

Pass  softly  as  an  infant's   sigh— 
Wouldst  fall  into  the  arms  of  death 

As  gently  as  the  flowers  that  die- 
Speak  pardon  to  thy  kneeling  foe, 

E'en  on  his  head  thy  blessings  pour, 
And  angels  shall  their  smiles  bestow, 

And  bear  thee  to  their  own  bright  shore. 


ELMINA  E.  BALLOU  WALDO 

Was  the  fourth  daughter  of  the  late  venerahle  Hosea  Ballou.  She  was  born 
April  3d,  1810,  in  Portsmouth,  N.  H.,  six  months  after  her  father  removed 
to  that  place,  and  five  years  of  her  child-life  were  spent  in  this  more  than 
beautiful  and  historic  city.  Books  were  not  as  plenty  then  as  now,  and 
Elmina  must  have  realized  it  in  her  child-mind,  for,  young  as  she  was,  she 
commenced  in  Portsmouth  to  treat  with  care  any  little  scrap  of  paper  con- 
taining printing ;  she  did  this  even  before  she  could  read  much ;  would  pick 
up  the  scraps,  fold  them,  and  carefully  put  them  away  in  a  box  for  future 
use.  In  1815  her  hither  removed  to  old  Salem,  Mass.,  but  remained  there 
only  two  years,  when  he  was  invited  to  Boston  and  accepted  the  call. 

We  can  s;iy  with  truth  that  Elmina  was  born  with  a  taste  for  literature. 
At  the  early  age  of  ten  she  showed  wonderful  discrimination  and  judgment 
in  regard  to  the  standard  literature  of  the  day,  which  she  mastered  with  ease. 


ELMINA    R.    IJALLOTT    WALDO.  77 

Her  familiarity  with  the  solid  literature  of  the  times  was  the  suhject  of 
wonder  to  the  older  heads,  to  whom  she  not  unfrequently  gave  abstracts  from 
books  with  which  she  was  perfectly  familiar.  She  was  also  dowered  with  a 
bright  fancy,  vivid  imagination,  quick  sympathies,  and  a  retentive  memory. 
She  wrote  and  published  very  creditable  poems  at  the  early  age  of  fourteen. 
Her  son  George  C.  Waldo  writes  me:  "One  of  her  earliest  productions  was 
entitled  'The  Myrtle. '  It  was  published  originally  in  the  'Bay  State  Democrat ; ' 
but  in  the  life  of  Hosea  Ballon,  written  by  his  son,  M.  M..  Ballon,  this  poem 
was  inserted  by  mistake  as  a  specimen  of  Mr.  Ba lion's  remarkable  poetic 
facility,  and  so  far  is  it  from  all  evidence  of  immaturity  that  it  would  have 
done  credit  even  to  him.  She  wrote  both  prose  and  poetiy,  as  opportunity 
offered,  during  her  entire  life,  and  left  a  collection  of  poems  far  above 
the  average  in  literary  merit,  and  all  breathing  of  the  high  and  lofty  spirit 
and  genuinely  religious  feeling  which  were  a  part  of  her  character.  She 
wrote  for  the  'Christian  Messenger'  as  early  as  1823."  Like  her  father,  Uni- 
versalism  was  the  atmosphere  in  which  she  lived,  moved,  and  had  her  being. 
Elmina  was  married  at  the  age  of  twenty-two  to  Rev.  J.  C.  Waldo,  and 
her  wedding  trip  was  to  the  great  West,  a  trip  not  taken,  as  similar  trips  are 
taken  nowadays,  to  waste  time  in  enjoyment,  but  to  assist  her  husband  in 
teaching  his  people  how  to  enjoy  the  better  way.  But  the  Western  ague 
made  sad  havoc  with  Mrs.  Waldo's  health,  and  they  were  obliged  to  return. 
She  performed  her  duties  as  a  minister's  wife  in  West  Cambridge,  Mass.,  at 
Troy,  N.  Y.,  and  at  New  London,  Conn.  Her  son  continues:  "The  life 
of  a  country  minister's  wife,  no  matter  what  the  denomination,  occupied 
largely  in  the  engrossing  cares,  small  economies,  ever-present  and  ever-pressing 
demands  upon  time,  patience  and  endurance  consequent  upon  the  rearing  of 
a  family,  and  the  faithful  performance  of  those  other  duties  which  the  parish 
demands,  affords  so  few  opportunities  for  the  development,  and  so  little 
encouragement  for  the  practice,  of  the  ornamental  accomplishments,  that  we 
may  well  wonder  if  tiny  are  developed  and  nourished  at  all,  instead  of  becom- 
ing withered  and  decayed  under  the  demands  of  daily  and  never-completed 
toil."  Mrs.  Waldo,  however,  while  fulfilling  to  the  utmost  all  that  the  posi- 
tion of  wife,  mother  and  pastor's  helpmeet  coidd  require,  still  found  time 
.for  the  generous   cultivation  of   her  mind,  for  wide  reading  and  study,  and 


78  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

firmly  fixing  in  the  minds  of  her  children  the  foundation  of  a  love  for  litera- 
ture, art  and  science,  as  well  as  for  all  the  higher,  nobler  and  gentler  ameni- 
ties of  life.  A  friend  writes  me  that  "her  society  was  a  hberal  education, 
and,  whatever  were  the  conditions  of  her  immediate  surroundings,  she  adorned 
them  with  the  graces  and  refinements  which  were  the  innate  qualities  of  her 
mind." 

Mrs.  Waldo  became  the  mother  of  seven  children,  five  of  whom  lived  to 
be  grown,  and  four  of  them  survived  their  mother.  George  C.  (from  whom  I 
have  received  great  assistance)  is  a  resident  of  Bridgeport,  Conn.,  and  is  one 
of  the  editors  and  publishers  of  'The  Daily  and  Weekly  Standard.'  Clemen- 
tina Gr.'s  home  is  in  New  London,  Conn. ;  and  Maturin  Ballou  lives  at  San- 
dusky, Ohio.  The  two  daughters,  Ella  and  Frances,  died  some  years  since. 
Mrs.  Waldo's  death  occurred  after  a  long  illness,  on  the  20th  of  June,  1856, 
in  New  London,  Conn.  Just  before  her  death  she  wrote  "  The  Ideal  of  the 
Spiritual,"  a  poem  which  weU  illustrates  her  poetical  abilities. 

THE    IDEAL    OF    THE    SPIRITUAL. 

The  lofty  walls  are  tapestried  superbly 

With  scenes  of  glory,  changing  evermore; 
And  light— not  of  the  sun  or  moon— is   streaming 

O'er  golden  dome  and  tessellated  floor. 

Far-reaching  aisles,  with  everlasting  pillars, 

And  jewelled  pavement  mortal  foot  ne'er  pressed; 

Such  is  the  inner  temple;,  at  whose  altar 
My  weary  spirit  folds  her  wings  to  rest! 

It  is  a  haunted  spot— a  spell  is  o'er  it. 

And  all  around,  on  terrace,   lake  and  tree, 
Enchanting  bird-notes  mingle   with  tin;  perfume 

Of  flowers,  that  bloom  to  live  eternally! 

I  said  'twas  haunted,— not  in  the  old  fashion. 

By  restless  sprites  whose  coming  I  should  fear,— 

But  by  the  angel  forms  of  the  true-hearted 
Who   seek    my   earthly   pilgrimage   to   cheer. 

I  see   their   radianl    smiles,   and   heai-   their  voices 

In   dear,   familiar  tones,   repeat   my  name; 
Fond   arms   encircle   me,   and  joy   ecstatic 

Pervades  my  soul,  and  thrill--  my  trembling  frame. 


ELMINA   It.    KALLOU    WALDO.  79 

Borne  smile  when  I  describe  tliis   habitation, 

And  say  I  am  deceived;    but  well  I  know 
That  he   who  gave  me  powers  for  such  creation 

Would  never  mock   my   yearning  spirit   so. 

Not  half  so  real  is  my  outward  being, 
Wearing  itself  away  in  earthly  strife; 

While   stronger,   brighter,   grows   this   blest    ideal 

The  sacred  earnest  of  eternal  life. 

Her  son  says:  "This  poem  fully  exemplifies  her  faith  in  the  hetter  life, 
and  her  desire  to  realize  that  which  had  through  trial,  bereavement,  sickness 
and  suffering  come  to  he  more  to  her  longing  spirit  than  anything  which  this 
world  coidd  afford."  It  is  doubtful  if  any  poem  was  ever  written  more 
redolent  of  the  spirit  of  the  writer,  or  more  abounding  in  that  faith  which  is 
"the  substance  of  things  hoped  for,  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen.''  At  the 
same  time  its  method  testifies  to  the  culture,  refinement,  nice  discrimination 
and  correct  taste  of  the  writer,  and  to  a,  literary  ability  of  no  mean  rank. 

The  following  must  have  been  written  in  the  old  Washingtonian  days: 

THE    SOCIAL    CTJP    OF    FRIENDSHIP. 

Light   up   the   hall   and   spread   the   board, 

Bring  on  the  festal  cheer; 
We'll  drink  and  merry  be  to-night, 

For  those  we  love  are   here. 

Let  music    lend   her  joyous  breath 

And   mirth   her  jester  bring. 
So.  fill  the  tempting  goblet  full. 

With  water  from   the  spring! 

Let  not  the  false,  deceitful   wine 

To  friendship's  board  be  brought. 
For  well   we   know   its   coral   depths 

With   ruin's  seed-  are  fraught. 

Shall   pure  affection's  pledge  be  drunk 
In  poison'  s  dregged  bowl? 

And   doth   this   emblem    shadow   forth 
The   feelings   of    the   soul? 

Oh,    no!    the   pure   and  generous   spring 

Affection's  type  should  prove; 
From   this  alone   our   cups   we'll    fill 

In    pledging    those    we    love! 


80  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Then  light  the  hall  and   spread  the  board. 
And  mirth    and  music  bring— 

Go,  fill  the  tempting  goblet  full 
With  water  from  the   spring! 


SAEAH  C.  EDGABTON    MAYO. 

No  other  of  the  women  who  have  glorified  the  annals  of  our  church 
has  more  truly  lived  the  highest  Christian  life,  or  better  illustrated  that 
sweetness  and  grace  that  exalt  and  ennoble  womankind,  than  did  Sarah 
Edgarton.  The  melody  which  she  breathed  in  song  was  the  utterance  of  a 
spirit  that  existed  but  to  love.  Her  face  was  the  faithful  index  of  her  beau- 
tiful spirit,  full  of  sweet  grace  and  womanly  loveliness,  and  to  her  the 
spiritual  was  as  real  as  the  tangible.  This  sweet  singer  of  God's  unbounded 
love  was  born  in  Shirley  village,  Mass.,  March  17th,  1819,  the  tenth  of  a 
family  of  fifteen  children.  Her  home  was  a  model  household.  Her  father 
was  a  man  of  genuine  generosity  and  simplicity,  and  her  mother  quiet, 
womanly,  and  of  an  all-pervading  gooodness,  whose  personality  touched 
every  inmate  with  the  charm  of  her  motherly  character. 

Shirley  village,  though  a  factory  settlement,  is  surrounded  with  charm- 
ing sceneiy  of  hill,  stream  and  forest,  verdure  and  fohage,  in  the  midst  of 
which  Sarah  lived  and  enjoyed  until  the  age  of  twenty-seven.  A  love  of 
nature  was  her  all-engrossing  passion.  Every  flower  and  change  of  sky 
and  all  the  phenomena  of  the  coming  and  going  seasons  were  to  her  a 
delight,  and  she  never  tired  of  endeavoring  to  preserve  in  her  own  pure 
rhetoric  what  she  saw  and  heard  and  felt.  The  district  school,  supplemented 
by  a  single  term  in  Westford  Academy,  comprised  her  technical  education, 
but  the  books  in  her  father's  library  and  in  the  neighborhood  were  all 
read  with  avidity;  the  book  of  nature  was  always  open  before  her. 

Her  first  attempts  ;it  writing  were  at  the  age  of  twelve,  and  at  sixteen 


SARAH    EDGARTON    MAYO.  81 

she  first  wrote  for  publication.  At  seventeen  she  experienced  religion,  of 
the  type  which  always  prevailed  in  her  happy  home,  and  she  became  at  that 
early  age  what  she  remained  to  the  day  of  her  too  early  death,  a  pro- 
nounced Universalist.  At  this  time  she  wrote  her  first  article  for  the  "Ladies' 
Repository,"  and  the  next  year,  1887,  her  name  appears  as  a  regular  contrib- 
utor. At  about  this  time  she  wrote  "The  Palfreys"  and  "Ellen  Clifford," 
"Spring  Flowers"  and  "The  Poetry  of  Woman."  She  evinced  an  increasing 
literary  merit,  and  always  displayed  a  purity  and  sincerity  that  were  perfect, 
first  and  last. 

Her  magnetic  disposition  at  once  won  the  esteem  and  love  of  such  of 
those  eminent  in  our  church  as  Rev.  Henry  and  Mrs.  E.  A.  Bacon,  Mrs.  L. 
J.  B.  Case,  Julia  Scott,  Rev.  T.  J.  and  Caroline  M.  Sawyer,  Revs.  A.  C. 
Thomas  and  T.  B.  Thayer,  and  the  early  called  Charlotte  Jerauld.  Her 
correspondence  with  these  and  others  is  scattered  through  the  admirable 
memoir  written  by  her  husband,  published  by  Abel  Tompkins,  Boston,  in 
I860,  and  the  selections  from  her  writings  photograph  the  beauty  of  her 
disposition,  and  invest  her  character  with  a  continual  charm. 

In  1838  she  wrote  to  Julia,  Scott:  "Your  letter,  my  dear  Julia  (I  love 
that  name),  while  it  afforded  me  the  deepest  joy,  awakened  at  the  same  time 
emotions  of  painful  sympathy.  It  is  most  painful  to  me  to  learn  that  the 
spirit  is  depressed  and  that  its  embodiment  is  weak — that  your  lot  is  to 
suffer,  to  endure,  to  weep  and  to  pray.  My  prayers  shall  be  for  your 
recovery  to  health  and  happiness,  and  on  these  prayers  may  God  yield  his 
blessings.  While  I  have  health  and  friends  and  a  strong  heart,  I  humbly 
beg  my  Father  to  make  me  grateful ;  and  as  for  poverty,  I  have  ever  con- 
sidered it  a  most  blessed  evil.  Wealth  woidd  bring  me  indolence;  I  am  of 
that  foolish  kind  who  would  love  to  lie  all  day  under  a  green  tree  and  dream 
Utopian  dreams;  but  he  who  made  me  has  work  for  me  to  perform,  and  I 
will  perform  it  with  gladness,  knowing  that  it  is  for  my  own  benefit  I  labor. 
I  wish  I  could  be  with  you  awhile;  it  seems  as  if  I  should  love  you  so  that 
you  would  be  happy.  And  I,  who  am  sunny  nineteen,  and  just  in  that 
season  of  life  when  to  live  is  to  be  full  of  gladness— I  have  often  thought 
that  grief  and  sorrow  would  chasten  and  humble  and  renew  me:  but  what 
grief  coidd  I  specify  from  which  I  would  not   shrink  and   plead   for  e\enip 


82  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

tion?     A  sharp  steel  and  a  bitter  potion  are  in  the  hands  of  the  physician, 
but  their  effect  is  ever  salutary,  and  his  will  be  done." 

Her  habits  at  this  time  she  describes  in  a  letter  to  her  dear  friend,  Mrs. 
E.  A.  Bacon:  "So  many  letters  to  write — three  pages  interlined  to  nearly 
all — visitors  to  attend  to,  of  whom  we  have  had  not  a  few;  calls  upon  vil- 
lagers ;  work  for  our  large  family ;  editorials  to  pick  up ;  books  to  read ;  ber- 
ries to  cull;  walks  to  take;  flowers  to  examine ;  astronomy  to  attend  to; 
Sabbath  school  and  Bible  class,  etc.,  etc.  All  these  things  have  kept  my 
mind  in  constant  excitement.  Now  I  mean  to  be  calm  and  think — reflect 
upon  things  a  little.  The  danger  will  be,  I  shall  be  assailed  by  my  invet- 
erate habit  of  dreaming.  Do  you  know  of  any  specific'?  Were  you  ever 
thus  troubled?  *  *  *  Tell  E — I  rise  about  seven  o'clock,  eat  break- 
fast, wipe  dishes,  sweep,  make  beds,  sometimes  chum,'  wash  and  iron,  make 
toilet,  then  cloister  myself  in  the  study  tiU  dinner;  when  this  is  despatched 
and  the  dishes  again  in  the  cupboard,  I  return  to  my  books  and  pen,  and 
leave  them  not  tiU  night.  Were  she  to  look  in  occasionally  she  would  see 
me  sitting  in  my  arm  chair  with  a  sheet  before  me,  a  happy  countenance — 
sometimes  frowning  for  a  thought — a  pile  of  books  on  the  table  in  front, 
work-basket,  unanswered  letters,  a  dish  of  berries,  flowers,  scraps  of  poetry, 
etc.,  etc.,  all  in  a  fine  disorder.  Sometimes  sisters  come  in  and  we  enjoy  a 
fine  laugh  together.  Sometimes  she  might  see  me  thoughtful,  and  perhaps 
sometimes  in  tears.  I  have  things  to  make  me  weep ;  but  it  is  for  others, 
not  for  myself,  save  when  I  am  yearning  for  absent  friends,  of  whom  none 
are  dearer  than  her  own  dear  self.  Some  of  my  letters  make  me  weep,  for 
some  of  them  are  very  sad.     The  clock  strikes  twelve,  a  warning  to  close." 

In  1840  appeared  the  first  number  of  the  "Rose  of  Sharon,"  a  handsome 
annual,  edited  and  largely  written  by  her,  as  were  the  successive  numbers 
until  her  death,  when  Mrs.  C.  M.  Sawyer  assumed  the  management. 

To  the  suggestion  that  she  should  enter  the  general  field  of  literature 
she  replied  that  whatever  talents  God  had  given  her  should  be  entirely  con- 
secrated to  her  own  church.  She  wrote  to  that  kindred  spirit,  Mrs.  L.  J.  B. 
Case: 

"lam  gratified  I  must  not  say  flattered  by  what  you  have  written 
concerning  my  probable  success  in  a  more  open  and   elevated  literary   field. 


SARAH    EDGARTON    MAYO.  83 

I  confess  I  have  myself  often  thought  of  going  into  the  presence  of  high  and 
mighty  ones,  but,  not  to  speak  of  my  probable  speedy  expulsion,  I  have 
always  restrained  my  ambition  by  the  thought,  if  1  should  be  kindly 
received,  if  my  name  should  become  known  to  the  gifted  and  the  wise,  surely 
I  am  in  no  way  competent  to  sustain  the  dignity  that  would  be  imposed  upon 
me.  I  am  a  timid,  shrinking,  simple  thing,  grown  up  like  a  weed  without 
care  or  cultivation,  ignorant  of  the  great  world,  its  rules  and  ceremonies  and 

idle  pomp.     Oh,  dear!  Mrs.  C -,  a  few  such  thoughts  have  soon  tamed  all 

my  aspirations,  and  I  have  felt  that,  instead  of  venturing  further,  I  would 
draw  myself  closely  beneath  the  sheltering  wings  of  our  own  household  of 
faith." 

Her  letters,  could  they  be  coUected  in  a  volume,  would  make  one  of  the 
most  charming  of  aU  the  collections  of  correspondence.  She  loved  to  pour 
out  her  observations  and  experiences  to  all  her  valued  and  trusted  friends, 
and'  every  letter  is  imbued  with  the  love  of  Universahsm  or  the  charming 
influence  the  great  book  of  nature  had  wrought  upon  her  soul.  In  1810, 
writing  to  Rev.  Henry  Bacon,  from  New  York,  she  says : 

"Universahsm  seems  very  prosperous  in  this  city.  'AU  things  work 
together  for  good  to  those  who  love  God,'  it  is  said.  'New  Jerusalem'  cer- 
tainly looks  not  very  desolate  in  the  absence  of  the  deserter,  neither  does 
'Mystery  Babylon'  seem  miraculously  illuminated.  A  few  shouts  of  defiance 
have  been  recently  heard  from  some  valiant  Babylonish  sentinel,  and  occa- 
sionally a  little  trumpeter  sends  forth  a  warning  blast — Beware !  beware  of 
fatal  consequences !  But  stiU  bravely  and  beautifully  waves  the  banner  of 
love  from  Zion's  tower,  and  on  it  is  blazoned  this  glorious  motto:  'Glory  to 
God  in  the  highest!   On  earth  peace,  and  good  will  to  men.' 

"In  the  ties  of  this  gospel,  Your  Sister." 

Writing  for  the  "Repository,"  the  "Rose  of  Sharon,"  and  the  denomina- 
tional press,  and  editing  the  "Flower  Vase,"  and  the  memoir  and  poems  of 
Julia  Scott,  occupied  the  next  three  years. 

In  1812  her  acquaintance  with  Charlotte  Fillebrown  began.  Dr.  Mayo 
says: 

"The  freshness  and  sincerity  of  Charlotte's  nature  at  once  gained  the 
heart  of  her  friend.     Her  sparkling  humor  and  quick  perception  of  the  ludi- 


84  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

crous  were  an  additional  attraction  to  one  who  was  all  her  life  a  most  devoted 
disciple  to  the  rehgion  of  wit  and  mirth ;  while  a  congeniality  of  literary  pur- 
suits added  the  last  bond  necessary  to  cement  this  happy  union  of  hearts. 
Sarah  also  was  the  older,  and,  in  many  things,  the  instructor  and  adviser  of 
Charlotte.  Their  correspondence  is  beautifully  characteristic,  and  a  model 
of  a  high,  sincere  intercourse  between  friends;  possessing  the  rare  charm  of 
discussing  the  most  common  details  of  news  and  domestic  life  in  a  spirit  and 
tact  as  far  removed  from  the  sentimental  as  the  prosaic.  In  the  Summer  of 
1848  Charlotte  spent  several  weeks  at  Shirley  village.  The  friends,  with 
Sarah's  brother,  led,  for  a  few  weeks,  a  life  of  perfect  gypsy  freedom.  Every 
pond  and  stream,  every  hilltop  or  path  running  away  into  the  woods,  was 
explored;  whole  days  spent  out  of  doors,  or,  if  anything  detained  them  within, 
employed  in  a  manner  that  would  have  upset  the  gravity  of  the  most  severe 
advocate  of  household  discipline.  At  the  close  of  this  time  they  went 
together  to  the  city  and  employed  their  leisure  in  reading,  or  visiting  the 
rooms  of  artists,  to  which  they  were  generously  admitted  by  some  friends 
who  are  now  among  the  best-known  in  American  art." 

In  1845  she  wrote  to  Kev.  A.  D.  Mayo,  to  whom  she  was  now  be- 
trothed: "My  prayers  go  up  for  you  to-night  that  God  will  send  you  health 
and  strength  and  heavenly  peace ;  that  he  will  anoint  you  with  power  and 
grace  to  turn  the  hearts  of  men  to  love  and  practice  goodness.  Oh,  may 
you  be  a  faithful  and  useful  minister  of  eternal  truth ! — so  shall  my  heart  be 
satisfied  in  ah  its  longings,  and  you  be  blessed  with  the  richest  and  holiest 
blessings  that  lie  in  the  gift  of  God. 

To  a  friend,  after  the  death  of  her  father,  she  wrote:  "Thank  you  for 
this  attention  in  our  season  of  bereavement.  Our  dear  father  is  indeed  gone; 
we  can  never  look  upon  his  earthly  countenance,  but  we  think  of  the 
immortality  and  the  incorruption  which  are  now  his,  and  we  are  truly  com- 
forted. Poor  mother  is,  of  course,  deeply  afflicted.  A  happy  union  of 
thirty-five  years  has  been  suddenly  interrupted.  How  vacant  must  the 
world  mi  m  fco  her  -no,  not  vacant,  for  she  has  many  dear  children  and  kind 
friends;  but  how  sadly  she  must  miss  one  voice,  and  the  kindly  beaming 
of  one  face  that  ever  gazed  into  hers  with  the  most  devoted  love.  I  wept 
for  father  while  ho  suffered,  but  I  weep  only  for  mother  now." 


SAKAH    EDGARTON    MAYO.  85 

July  28,  1817,  she  was  married  to  Mr.  Mayo,  and  proceeded  to  their 
new  home  where  Mr.  Mayo  was  pastor,  in  Gloucester,  Mass.  Here  the 
young  people  hved  in  a  happy  world  of  their  own.  Dr.  Mayo  writes,  "We 
lived  in  a  world  of  poetry  and  sacred  beauty.  The  kindness  of  all  around 
us  smoothed  every  trial  incident  to  the  early  days  of  professional  life,  and 
forgave  all  neglect  of  duty.  We  had  many  friends  with  us,  and  some  of 
them  will  long  rememher  the  evenings  when  we  sat  in  our  room,  the  moon 
streaming  in  through  the  green  branches  and  vines  about  the  windows, 
listening  to  Sarah  as  she  read  to  us  in  a  voice  that  no  one  who  has  heard, 
can  ever  forget.  Then  there  were  pleasant  parties  upon  the  beach  and  the 
rocks,  rides  into  the  neighboring  towns,  daily  visits  about  the  parish,  and 
one  of  the  afternoon  excursions  to  the  old  church  in  the  "West Parish, "  where 
we  held  a  religious  service  at  sunset,  for  which  Sarah  wrote  one  of  her  best 
hymns.  The  Sabbaths  were  days  of  the  purest  enjoyment.  She  engaged 
with  me  in  labors  of  our  little  Sabbath-school,  and  in  every  way  relieved 
as  far  as  possible  my  feeble  strength.  Much  of  our  time  was  also  spent  out 
of  doors  in  the  pleasant  Autumn  weather.  She  was  never  wealy  of  wander- 
ing about  the  seashore,  and  would  walk  miles  in  a  storm  to  see  the  waves 
beating  against  the  Bass  Eocks  or  tumbling  in  upon  Little  Good-Harbor 
Beach.  Thus  passed  away  this  beautiful  period  of  time.  She  was  as 
happy  as  any  one  is  permitted  to  be  in  our  earthly  lot.  She  had  gained  all 
she  had  hoped  for  in  life ,  the  love  of  one  entirely  devoted  to  her ,  a  sphere 
of  active  usefulness,  leisure  and  a  quiet  atmosphere  for  study,  and  a 
residence  among  the  grandest  and  loveliest  scenes  of  nature.  I  can  but 
faintly  describe  this  period  of  five  months.  Of  her  constant  gentleness  and 
love,  her  devotion  to  me  in  all  my  hours  of  weariness,  which  continued  ill- 
health  made  frequent,  her  large  benevolence  and  earnest  longing  to  make 
known  her  good- will  to  all  about  her,  1  can  not  trust  myself  to  speak. 
Those  who  knew  her  will  understand  that  this  meager  sketch  is  but  the 
outline  of  a  portrait  to  which  their  recollections  must  impart  grace  and 
finished  beauty." 

At  this  time  Starr  King,  Mr.  Mayo,  and  John  Edgarton,  Sarah's 
brother,  formed  a  rare  group,  of  which  John  Edgarton  was  unquestionably 
the  chief,  and  the  influence  of  such  grand   spirits  was  inexpressibly  stiniu- 


86  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

lating  and  helpful  to  her.  In  October  the  rare  spirit  of  Sarah's  brother  left 
earth,  and  Sarah  writes  to  her  sister  Mary,  "I  hope,  rny  dear  Mary,  we  "are 
aU  well  enough  instructed  in  Christian  faith  not  to  repine  at  this  severe  stroke. 
Never  was  a  soul  better  prepared  than  his  for  transition  into  the  immortal 
state.  For  a  year  past  that  has  been  his  favorite  theme.  Recollect  his 
thoughts  and  feelings  expressed  at  the  close  of  the  article  on  "Regeneration 
and  Faith,"  and  his  article  this  year  on  "Immortality."  It  is  a  great  treas- 
ure to  us  to  have  his  high  views  thus  left  to  comfort  us.  May  we  all  be  as 
good  and  strong-hearted  as  he." 

The  following  was  written  to  Rev.  Starr  King,  who  was  her  brother's 
dearest  and  best  friend,  and  the  feeling  was  so  fully  reciprocated  that  the  sis- 
ter felt  that  her  sympathy  must  be  given  to  the  friend : 

"On  this  beautiful  Sabbath  morning,  holy  and  serene,  when  all  nature 
is  composed  and  all  heaven  is  at  peace,  shall  I  not  make  the  hours  of  my 
solitude  and  weakness  a  season  of  grateful  trust  in  God,  and  of  consolation 
and  cheer  to  myself  and  you?  Would  that  you  were  here,  dear  Starr!  the 
peace  and  courage  that  is  in  my  own  soul  could  not  fail  to  impart  itself  to 
you.  You  would  feel  as  I  do,  that  our  loss  is  not  terrible,  but  that  our  gain 
is  great.  Yes,  even  in  his  dying  hour  itself  I  felt  that  the  immortal  was  to 
be  to  me  the  nearer  companion,  the  trustier  guide,  the  more  perpetual  joy 
and  strength  than  ever  the  mortal  had  been  or  could  be ;  that  I  was  losing 
nothing,  but  gaining  all,  by  that  great  transition  of  his  soul  from  weakness 
and  bondage  to  the  freedom  and  power  of  the  spiritual  and  immortal  life. 
Never  have  I  felt  him  gone,  never  can  I.  Can  we,  who  have  talked  together 
so  much,  and  always  in  such  perfect  sympathy  of  faith,  respecting  the  nature 
of  the  future  life,  can  we  ever  be  separated  by  any  failure  of  the  bodily 
senses  to  recognize  each  other?" 

On  Sept.  25th,  before  the  death  of  John  Edgarton,  Mrs.  Mayo's  daughter 
Carrie  was  born,  and  a  new  fountain  of  love  was  unsealed  in  her  heart.  Of 
these  months  Dr.  Mayo  says : 

"During  the  "Winter  and  Spring,  until  the  first  of  May,  we  remained  at 
home,  and  I  can  truly  say  that  I  never  enjoyed  four  months  of  higher  spirit- 
ual peace.  It  was. a  daily  blessing  to  live  with  Sarah,  for  she  bad  overcome 
the  world,  and  communicated  the  tranquillity  of  her  own  mind  to  all  around 


SABAB    EDGARTON    MAYO.  87 

her.  She  dwelt  in  no  mystical  region  of  communion  with  heaven,  but  her 
daily  life  was  glorified  by  the  presence  of  God.  Never  was  she  more  scrupu- 
lous in  the  performance  of  the  minutest  household  duties  than  now,  and  her 
care  for  her  child  was  constant.  In  the  new  sphere  of  maternal  duty  she  dis- 
played the  same  tenderness,  directed  by  strong  common  sense,  as  in  all 
former  conditions  of  her  life.  As  far  as  was  consistent  with  domestic 
employments,  her  social  relations  were  also  resumed;  but  her  time  was  prin- 
cipally occupied  in  her  own  house. 

"The  experience  of  the  last  year  had  elevated  her  nature  to  a  higher 
plane  of  thought  and  meditation.  In  her  social  intercourse  there  appeared  a 
chastened  tenderness  and  self-possession  more  engaging  than  the  enthusiastic 
manner  of  former  years.  Her  intellectual  tastes  were  purified;  she  read  none 
but  the  highest  books,  and  wrote  nothing.  In  fact,  at  one  time  she  deter- 
mined not  to  publish  again.  'I  shall  never  write  any  more  poetry  till  I  go 
to  heaven,'  she  said  one  day,  in  reply  to  my  expressions  of  regret  at  this 
determination.  The  same  elevation  of  feeling  was  discoverable  in  her  relig- 
ious nature.  If  her  Christian  sympathies  had  been  liberal  before,  they  now 
became  universal.  Any  expression  of  sectarian  partiality,  from  whatever 
source,  was  received  in  a  manner  which  would  have  convinced  any  one  that 
she  was  a  member  only  of  the  great  spiritual  church  of  her  Master.  Our 
conversations  of  the  departed  were  always  cheerful.  She  felt  their  presence 
to  be  no  interruption  to  the  joys  or  the  merriment  of  social  intercourse.  She 
was  in  truth  ripening  for  another  existence."  Her  last  hours  are  thus  described 
by  her  loving  husband: 

"On  Monday  and  Tuesday  she  was  slightly  indisposed,  but  desired  me  to 
go  upon  a  short  excursion  to  recruit  my  energies,  somewhat  wasted  by  anxiety 
of  the  last  week.  On  my  return,  Tuesday  evening,  I  found  her  upon  the  bed, 
from  which  she  never  arose.  Her  illness  hurried  her  on  to  death  with  a 
rapidity  which  no  medical  skill  could  arrest.  On  Friday  she  revived,  and  all 
believed  she  would  recover.  Her  conversation  was  cheerful,  and  she  assured 
me  that  the  violence  of  her  disease  had  abated.  But  at  night  it  returned 
with  increased  power,  and  on  Saturday  morning  I  felt  that  she  must  be  called 
away.  Her  intense* suffering  prevented  her  from  talking  with  us  till  Sabbath 
noon.     Then  her  pain  left  her,  and  she  lay  with  a  heavenly  smile  upon  her 


88  OUB    WOMAN    WOKKEES. 

face,  awaiting  her  departure.  As  we  stood  around  her  bed  we  felt  the  impo- 
tence of  death  in  the  presence  of  the  immortal  spirit.  No  anxieties  for  our 
welfare  disturbed  her,  but  the  calm  radiance  of  her  eyes,  and  the  low  melody 
of  her  voice  as  she  looked  upon  us  and  spoke  of  death,  were  like  those  of  a 
spirit  that  has  seen  the  heaven  to  which  it  is  hastening.  At  sunset  she  sank 
into  a  state  of  unconsciousness,  and  when  darkness  fell  upon  the  earth  she 
passed  to  her  eternal  home. 

"We  carried  her  to  her  burial,  arrayed  in  the  flowers  she  loved.  Her 
mortal  remains  now  rest  in  the  beautiful  cemetery  of  her  native  village,  almost 
under  the  shadow  of  the  church  spire,  upon  the  brow  of  a  hill  whose  base  is 
washed  by  Bow-Brook. 

"  'I  have  work  to  do  in  heaven,  but  I  will  always  be  with  you,'  were  the 
last  words  to  me ,  and  when  on  the  Sabbath  following  I  spoke  to  my  people 
on  the  'Immortality  of  the  Soul,'  we  felt  that  she  was  indeed  with  us,  and 
we  trust  that  her  high  example  has  not  been  lost,  but  has  aided  us  to  accept 
the  affliction  of  her  departure  in  the  spirit  of  him  who  said  in  his  hour  of 
trial,   'Father  not    my  will  but  thine  be  done.' 

"If  I  have  succeeded  in  presenting  a  faithful  picture  of  the  subject  of 
this  memoir,  no  one  can  fail  to  understand  her  character,  whether  expressed 
in  her  hfe,  correspondence,  or  literary  productions.  Her  nature  was  as  sim- 
ple as  it  was  deep  and  beautiful,  and  can  be  expressed  by  no  other  word  than 
that  which  was  always  upon  her  lips — love,  love  for  everything  great  and 
good  and  beautiful ,  love  for  these  qualities,  so  intense  that  it  coidd  separate 
them  from  the  repulsive  union  with  gross  affections,  in  which  they  are  too 
often  found  in  human  character,  love  so  disinterested  that  her  life  was  al- 
ways more  in  the  wants  and  sympathies  of  others  than  of  herself — flowing 
out,  not  only  in  the  form  of  benevolence  and  kindness,  but  of  confidence  in 
man,  and  a  willingness  to  impart  the  richest  treasures  of  her  heart  to  bless 
the  humblest  one  about  her,  rising  like  a  constant  hymn  of  praise  to  the 
father  of  love,  and  giving  to  every  act  of  life  an  unconscious  grace  and 
sanctity  caught  from  a  converse  with  spiritual  realities.  This  is  the  begin- 
ning and  end  of  her  character.  Of  those  arts  by  which  we  endeavor  to  sup- 
ply the  place  of  genuine  emotion  she  knew  nothing;  for  her  own  interest  or 


SARAH     K1KJART0N    MAYO.  89 

reputation  she  whs  not  concerned;  she  was  always  so  devoted  to  those  near- 
est her  that  she  had  no  time  to  study  her  own  fancies  or  regret  that  they 
were  not  gratified.  Neither  was  this  a  sickly  or  sentimental  manifestation  of 
affection.  It  was  not  that  shallow  afl'ectionateness  which  takes  the  form  of 
an  incessant  craving  for  sympathy  and  a  boundless  demand  upon  the  good 
offices  of  others — a  sentiment  which  at  best  is  only  the  most  interesting 
form  of  selfishness.  Her  nature  was  singularly  healthy,  her  love  as  honest 
and  hearty  as  it  was  refined  and  penetrating.  She  loved  because  she  could 
not  help  it,  and  with  the  whole  force  of  her  being.  The  power  of  this  senti- 
ment was  the  source  of  all  the  strength  and  beauty  of  her  character.  It 
preserved  her  from  a  life  of  diseased  introspection,  to  which  the  retired  and 
studious  are  so  much  exposed.  It  elevated  the  lowest  duties  performed  for 
the  welfare  of  others  to  the  dignity  of  religious  acts ;  it  made  her  content  in 
any  spot  and  under  any  circumstances,  for  deep  and  constant  affection  can 
annihilate  distance  and  overlook  present  inconvenience  in  the  intensity  of 
its  conceptions  and  its  self-sufficing  suggestions;  it  gave  her  faith  in  God  ia 
the  darkest  hours,  for  love  in  our  own  souls  is  the  only  thing  that  can  assure 
us  of  the  omnipotence  of  love  in  the  universe ;  it  imparted  that  unconscious 
gentleness  and  grace  to  her  person,  her  manners  and  conversation  that  no 
one  could  resist;  it  was  the  seat  of  a  reserved  energy  which  the  heaviest 
pressure  of  discouraging  circumstances  could  develop,  but  never  overcome; 
it  was  also  the  source  of  the  ease  with  which  she  threw  off  the  burden  of  care 
and  became  a  very  child  in  her  enjoyment  of  .humor  and  gaiety.  Where 
love  exists  as  in  her  nature,  it  is  the  great  interpreter  of  all  manifestations, 
however  opposite,  for  it  contains  in  a  comprehensive  unity  the  elements  of 
the  widest  diversity." 

The  memoir  from  which  we  have  abridged  the  foregoing  is  a  picture  of 
a  beautiful  life,  and  it  should  always  be  prized  by  our  people  as  the  record 
of  one  of  the  most  sainted  spirits  our  church  has  produced. 

Our  limits  prevent  us  from  referring  to  many  of  her  poems,  but  we  will  quote 
enough  so  that  our  readers  who  have  not  been  acquainted  with  her  writings 
may  see  with  what  delicacy,  simplicity  and  fervor  she  expressed  the  quiet 
musings  of  her  heart  and  the  earnest  yearnings  of  her  loving  soul: 


90  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

THE    MISSION    OF    CHRIST. 

Oh,  yes!  there  is  joy  in  sincerely  believing, 

No  heart  that  is  faithless  can  dream  of  or  know: 
There  is  strength  in  the  thought  that  our  souls  are  receiving 

Such  wealth  as  a  Father  alone  can  bestow. 
Then  away  with  the  dogma  that  sin  is  eternal; 

It  dims  the  bright  glow  of  Immanuel's  name; 
For  it  was  not  to  build  up  a  kingdom  infernal 

That  Jesus,  the  friend  of  the  sorrowful,  came. 

It  was  not  to  lay  in  the  path  of  the  blinded 

High  walls  over  which  they  must  stumble  and  fall, 
That  he  came,  all  sublime  and  serene  and  high-minded, 

And  laid  down  his  life— a  redemption  for  all! 
It  was  not  to  slaughter,  in  anger  and  blindness, 

The  wandering  lambs  that  were  dying  of  cold, 
That  he  lifted  them  up  to  his  bosom  in  kindness 

And  brought  them  all  home  to  their  rest  in  the  fold. 

He  is  good,    and  the  heart  that  serenely  reposes 

And  lays  down  its  burdens  to  rest  in  his  love. 
Will  find  that  the  door  of  salvation  ne'er  closes 

So  long  as  one  sinner  continues  to  rove. 
He  loves  the  young  lambs,  though  afar  they  are  straying 

He  seeks  out  the  weary   with  tender  concern; 
Oh,  hear  his  soft  voice  in   the  wilderness  praying, 

"To  the  arms   of  your  Savior,  poor  lost  ones  return!" 


VISIONS. 

Before  me,  on  the  dusky  air. 

I  catch  a  gleam  of  golden  hair; 

Far  through  the  green  copse  I  pursue; 

"I'was  but  a  sunbeam  glancing  through. 

When   stretched    upon   the   grass  T   lie, 
I  meet  the  splendor  of  thine  eye; 
I  start— I  search  the  shallow   glen; 

'Tu'iis   but    a    violet    gazing   in. 

Thy   white   hand    beckons   from   the   hedge, 
I  grasp  it  to  renew  my  pledge; 
A  shower  of   bloom    falls   over   mi-; 
'Twas   but    the   (lowering   hawthorn   tree! 

From    the   •] i in    wood    I    hear   thee   call; 
I  il      'twas  but   the  waterfall! 


SARAH    EDGARTON    MAYO.  91 

Thy  lighl  step  through  the  Held  doth  pass; 
I  turn— 'twas  Imt  the  waving  grassl 

A  sigh  comes  stealing  from  the  grove— 
The  well-known  sigh  of  slighted   love; 
I  lly  tn  throw  me  at  thy  feet; 
The  murmuring  pine  is  all  i  meet. 

Oh.  did  I  murder  thee,  thai  thou 

Shouldst   haunt  me  with  thy  pair,  dead  brow 
Thai   everywhere  thy  form  should  be 
A  shadow  between  heaven  and  me? 

Oh,  worse  than  keenest  sword  or  knife. 
The  worm  that  gnawed  away  thy  life! 
Love  fondly   given,   and   trust  betrayed. 
In  this  is  all  thy  story  said. 


THE  GOOD  SHEPHERD. 

There  was  a  tender  Shepherd,  and  he  dwelt 

In  Palestine,     His  faithful   lambs  were  fed 
Upon  the  sweetest  herbage,  and  they  knelt 

With  grateful  hearts,  and  found  a  welcome  bed 
Close  at  his  fee'.     Devotedly  they  loved 

Their  gentle  Guide,  and  followed  in  his    track 
Like  waiting  angels;    or.   if  any   roved 

Unguardedly,  he  sought  and  brought  them   back. 

He  was  so  good  a  Shepherd,  and  his  flocks 

Were  watched   with   such   untiring  ran',   and  led 
To  such  sweet  founts— such  as  th'  eternal   Rock 

Alone  e'er  yielded-  wen'  so  richly  ted 
And  kindly  sh  sltered,  many  sought  his  fold 

From  other  flocks,  and  humbly  begged  a  share 
Nor  was  the  weakest  pleader  ever  told 

To  turn  away,  tor  all  were  welcome  there! 

Then  was  the  Shepherd  summoned  to  a  land 

Far  from  the  country  of  his  faithful  sheep. 
He  called  together  all  his  dear-loved    band 

Of  brethren;    and  he  bade  them  saf  ly  keep 
His  helpless  flock,  and  teed  his  lambs,    tor  foes 

Clad  in   the  guise  of  friends,   would   seek   to  win 
Their  guileless   hearts,   and   many   fearful   woes 

Would  hard  beset  them —from  without,  within. 

Then  to  his  mourning  flock   he  gently  ^pake: 

"Ye    little    ones,    I    go— 'tis    to    prepare 
A  better  place  for  you;  but.  for  my  sake. 


92  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Be  careful  of  your  safety.     Oh!  beware 
Of  false,  enticing  thieves,  for  they  will    seek 

To  lead  my  little  lambs  astray.     Ye  know 
Your  own  true  Shepherd's  voice,  and  when  I  speak, 

Then  shall  ye  follow    wheresoe'er  I   go. 

"Beloved,  do  not  grieve  that  I  depart— 

A  little  while,  and  we  shall  meet  again; 
Then  will  I  lead  you,  cherished  of  my  heart, 

To  a  far  sweeter  pasture,  to  a  plain 
Where  living  waters  flow,  and  soothing  shades 

Give  peace  and  joy,   where  .sorrow,  pain  and  cold 
Can  never  enter,  where  no  foe  invades— 

But  one  good  Shepherd  guards  one  peaceful  fold." 


THE    PERVADING    GOD, 

When  but  a  child,  there  was  to  me 
A  greatness  and  a  mystery 

O'er  all  I  saw; 
There  hung  about  me  everywhere 
In  earth    and  sky    and  cloud    and  air, 

A  brooding,  penetrating  awe! 

The  palest  flower,  that  o'er  the  brook 
Hung  trembling,  had  within  its  look 

A   meaning  deep; 
A  spirit  seemed   to    interfuse 
The  frailest  forms,  the  dullest   hues; 

Each  had  an  awful  life  to  keepl 

Such  mysteries  made  me  weep  and  pray! 
I  stole  from  outward   life   away 

To  that  within; 
I  asked  my  soul,   with  all   its  powers. 
To  league  itself  with   silent    hours, 

Some  answer  from  the  deep  to  win. 

So  unintelligible  then 

The  voice  that   spake,    lint   later,  when 

My  heart   had  grown, 
When  waked   by  grief,  and   love,  and   faith, 
I    bowed    to    what    the    spirit    saith, 

I  heard   and  understood  the  tone. 

Oh,    mighty    now   that    awful    Power, 
When  in  some  lonely,   listening  hour, 
it  speaks  to  tnel 


Sarah  edgarton  mayo.  9a 

Ask  mi'  not   why  my  heart  swells   high. 
Why  gushing  tears  o'erflow   my  ey(  — 
Is  it   not  awful,  then,  to  be?  . 

To  be!  where  all  around  us  is 
Perpetual  thought,  perpetual  bliss. 

In  ebb  and   flow! 
Life  never  pausing,  and  time— not!    • 
In  space  no  fixed,  no  central  spot, 

From  whence  we  came,  or  whither  gol 

Yet  nature  the  great  influx  loves; 
Through  the  great  swelling  stars  it  moves: 

It   lifts   the   sea; 
Mountains,  pervaded,  breathe  and  speak; 
The  streams,  o'erfull,  in  music  break. 

And  set  the  mighty  Presence  free! 

Oh  heart  of  mine!    Thou,  too,  shouldst  be 
An  ever  full,  unsounded   sea 

Of  joy   and   love! 
Come  Spirit!    let  me  feel  thee  near; 
Soul,  enter!     Flow  upon  me  here. 

From  all  beneath,  around,  above! 

We  could  scarcely  enrich  these  pages  with  poetry  breathing  a  purer 
spirit  and  a  loftier  sentiment,  expressed  in  choicer  language,  had  we  all  litera- 
ture from  which  to  select,  than  is  contained  in  the  following  series  of  son- 
nets on  the  Lord's  Prayer,  written  by  Mrs.  Jerauld  and  Mrs.  Mayo.  We  give 
them  place  here  between  the  sketches  of  the  two  sweet  singers,  who  now 
seem  to  those  who  remember  them  to  shine  like  twin  stars  in  the  heaven  to 
which  they  have  ascended : 

OUR  FATHER  WHO  ART  IN  HEAVEN. 

"Father  in  Heaven!"  how  many  hearts  are  breathing 

That    hallowed   name,   with   reverent   lips,   to-night; 
On  Southern   plains,  where  graceful  vines  are  wreathing, 

Or  on  si une   lofty,  snow-clad  Alpine  height. 
The    lonely  dweller  in  the   rugged  mountain, 

The    marimr   upon   the   trackless   sea. 
The  peasant  maiden   by  the  wildwood  fountain, 

And  childhood  lisping  at  its  mother's  knee 
All  breathe  alike  the  beautiful   petition 

To   thee— "Our  Father   who   in   heaven   art." 
And  thou  dost  own,  most  blessed  recognition! 

The  tie  between  thee  and  each  human  heart! 


94  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Thy  children!   may  we  ever  strive  to  be 
Worthy,  our  Father!    of  that  name  and  thee! 

Charlotte  A.  Jerattld. 


HALLOWED    BE    THY    NAME. 

Hallowed,  ay,  hallowed!   not  alone  in  prayer, 

But  in  our  daily  thoughts  and  daily   speech; 
At  altar  and  at  hearthstone— everywhere 

That  temple-priest  or  home-apostles  preach. 
Oh,  not  by  words  alone,  but  by  our  deeds, 

And  by  our  faith,  and  hope,  and  spirits'  flame, 
And  by  the  nature  of  our  private  creeds. 

We  hallow  best  and  glorify  thy  name. 
Nature  doth  hallow  it;    in  every  star, 

And  every  flower,  and  leaf  and  leaping  wave, 
She  praises  thee  who  from  thy  realm  afar 

Such  stores  of  beauty  to  this  fair  earth   gave. 
But  these  alone  should  not  thy  love  proclaim— 
Our  hearts,  our  souls  respond— "All  hallowed  be  thy  name." 

Saeah  C.  Edgakton  Mato. 


THY    KINGDOM    COME. 

Where  shall  thy  kingdom  come?     In  halls  of  state 

Or  old  cathedrals  where  the  mighty  throng. 
Where  mitred  priests  in  robes  of  purple  wait, 

And  pealing  organs  chant  the  lofty  song? 
Where  shall  thy  kingdom  come?     In  cloisters  dim 

Where  the  pale  nun  in  adoration  bends, 
While  with  the  music  of  her  vesper  hymn 

Some  fond  regret  or  cherished  memory  blends? 
Or  in  the  dwelling  of  the  lowly  poor, 

Where  humble  hopes  and  meek  affections  spring? 
There  shall  the  dove  of  peace,  her  wanderings  o'er, 

At  length  find   shelter  for  her  weary  wing? 
Where  shall  thy  kingdom  eome?     Is  not  thy  throne 
Within   the  humble,   contrite   soul   alone'' 


C.  A.  J. 


THY    WILL    BE    DONE    ON    EARTH    AS    IT    IS    IN    HEAVEN. 

Oh,   beautiful   and    bright    that    world   must  be 
Where  life  is  hut  the  doing  of  God's  will! 
Could  we  on  earth  as  perfectly  fulfil 
Thy  holy  law,   we,  also,  shoul  I   be  tree] 
For  angels  are  not  happier  than  are  we 


SARAH    EDGARTON    MAYO.  95 

When  in  our  hearts  we  take  our  Father's  name. 
And  with  a  resolute  and  steady  aim 
Make  all  our  deeds  with  his  high   will  agree. 
Father!    we   hive   our  land   of   human   birth, 
Which  thou  to  us  for  a  brief  home  hast  given; 
We  love  this  beautiful  and   fair  young  earth. 
And  fain  would  make  it  like  our  home  in  heaven. 
Oh!  one  thing  more  we  truly   need— but  one— 
That   here   as  in    von    heaven   thy    holy   will   be  done. 

8.  C.  E. 


GIVE    US    THIS    DAY    OUR    DAILY    BREAD. 

Our  God,  our  Father,  from  thy  throne  on    high. 

Amid  the  melody   of  harps  divine, 
Wilt  thou  not  listen  to  thy  children's  cry, 

Borne  on  prayer-incense  to  thy  holy  shrine? 
Father,   we   hunger!    as   we   faltering  tread 

The  rugged  pathway  through   life's  wilderness. 
Oh,  "give  unto  us  each  our  daily  bread;" 

Strengthen  our  footsteps  as  we  onward  press! 
Thou  who  of  old  thy   mercy   didst   declare 

To  Israel    wandering  in  the  desert   land, 
Turn  not  away  from  this  our  fervent  prayer, 

Nor  let  our  frailties  stay  thy  gracious  hand; 
Thou  who  with  blessings  makest  each  day   rife, 

Give  to  our  fainting  souls  the  bread  of  life! 

C.  A.  J. 


FORGIVE    US    OUR    DEBTS    AS    AYE    1     RGIVE    OUR    DEBTORS. 

In  our  hard  march  through   life,  we  may   have  offered 

A  friendly   hand   to  some   poor  fainting  brother, 
And  in  our  turn   have   failed,   and   no  oae  proffered 

The   aid   we   lent    so   freely   to   another. 
'We  may   have   lived   a   life   of  cheerful   duty; 

Have  gladly  toiled  and  suffered  for  our  neighbor, 
And  aimed   to   till   his   soul    with    moral    beauty, 

Yet  reaped   but    wrong  and   curses   for  our  labor. 
Oh.    if   these   debts   are   from   our   souls   forgiven. 

Not  even   asking  penitent   confession. 
Then.    Father,    wilt    thou    from   thy    throne    in    heaven 

Bend  down  and    kindly  pardon  our  transgression; 
But,   if  we   pardon    not.   can    we    petition 

The   unerring  God   of   heaven   to  give   our  sin   remission? 

S.  C.  E. 


96  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

LEAD    US    NOT    INTO    TEMPTATION. 

From  the  low  hut,   where  Poverty  eontendeth 

Bravely   with  Vice,   the  sumptuously  fed. 
While  from  his  heart  an  anguish-wail  ascendeth. 

As  weak   young  voices  vainly  cry  for  bread! 
From  the  proud  soul  that  burnetii  for  dominion 

Over  the  mighty  universe  of  mind- 
That  fain  would  soar  away  on  eagle  pinion, 

Leaving  life's  tame  realities  behind; 
And  from  the  beauty  dowered,   in  humble   station. 

Who  for  the  world's  gay  pageants  fondly  sighs. 
From  Hagar,  maddened  by  her  desolation  — 

From  every  poor,  frail  heart  this  prayer  should  rise: 
"Suffer  us  not  to  fall  into  temptation!" 

Lead  us,   oh  Father!    where   our  duty   lies. 


C.  A.  J. 


BUT    DELIVER    US    FROM    EVIL. 

Ere  down  the  purple   west  tin'  sunbeams  sink, 

How  many  a  snare  may  lurk  around  our  way! 
How  oft  our  trembling  feet  upon  the  brink 

Of  Passion's  stream   unconsciously  may  stray! 
0  Father!   at  thy  feet  we  humbly   pray 

That  from  its  burning  waves   we  may   not  drink! 
Most  .emptingly  it  gushes  o'er  our  track. 

Flashing  like  jewels  'neath  our  eager  eyes; 
Oh,  place  thine  arm  around  us!     Draw  us  back! 

For  he  who  drinks  that  deadly  water  dies. 
Thou,  Father!  thou  alone  hast  those  supplies 

Which  renovate  and  satisfy  the  soul; 
From  thy  great  spirit  like  a  tide  they  roll, 

And  every  heart  may  come  and  fill    ts  golden   bowl. 

S.  C.  E. 


FOR    THINE    IS    THE    KINGDOM,    THE    POWER,    AND    THE    GLORY,    FOREVER. 

Thine  is  the  Kingdom!    Everlasting  God. 

In  all  thy  works  thy  sovereignty  is  shown; 
Justice   and  mercy    wait  upon   thy   nod. 

And  Truth   upholds   the   pillars   of  thy  throne. 
Thine  is  the  Power— to  tame  the  rebel  heart, 

To   make    the   serpent    gentle   as   the   dove. 
Comfort  and   peace   and  wisdom   to   impart. 

And  to   do  all   things   by   thy    wondrous  Love! 
Thine  is  the  gUjORY— not  <>f  earthly  kings, 

Not  thine   their  empty    pomp   and   poor   renown. 


S\EAH    KDGAKTON    MAYO.  97 


But  with  thy  goodness  the  empyrean  rings. 

Love  is  thy  seepter,  Love  thy  glorious  crown; 
While  earthly  thrones  return  to  dusl   again, 
Thine  shall  endure  forever  more.    Amen! 

C.  A.  J. 


LUTHEK, 

Twas  night,  black  night,  o'er  Christendom, 
And  denser  nighl  within  men's  souls; 

Thought  slumbered  in  a  human  tomb. 
And  truth  lay  hid   in  dusty  scrolls. 

A  voice  rose  clear,  amid  the  gloom 

And  silence  of  tins  awful  night; 
A  voice  that  rent  the  bolted  tomb. 

And  called  the  mouldering  dead  to  light. 

A  voice  sublime,  yet  calm  and  sweet, 
Was  heard  along  the  cloistered  aisles; 

It  echoed  through  the  crowded  street, 
And  shook  the  old  cathedral   piles. 

It  was  the  voice  of  one   who  long 

Had  crouched  beneath   the   papal  rod; 

He  rose  at  last,  sublime  and   strong. 
The  Champion  of  the  Word  of  God! 

Rome  shook  her  sceptered  arm  in  wrath. 

And   threw   her  snares   along  his  way; 
He  swept  them  lightly  from  Lis  path— 

A  giant  with  a  thread   at   play. 

Truth,  mighty  in  his  soul,  spake  out, 
And  Error  with  her  midnight  train. 

Blind  Superstition,  Fear,   and  Doubt, 
Fell,  ne'er  to  rise  so  strong  again! 

When   papal   thunders   shook   the  sky, 

And   hurled   their   red   holts   at    his   head. 

He  raised  the   Word  of  Cod  on  high, 

And  shining  helms   were  'round  him  spread. 

When  proud  philosophy,   with   sneers 

Upon  his  holy  "Theses"  trod, 
He   poured  within   its   startled    ears 

The  wisdom  of  the   Word  of  God. 

Old  monks  i red  out  from  gloomy  cells. 

And   raised  their   cowls   in    mute   surprise; 


98  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


Fair  nuns  forgot  their   vesper  bells. 

And  hope  shone  in  their  sweet  young  eyes. 

The  priests,  like  hissing  serpents,  spat 
Their  harmless  venom  in  his  face; 

But  at  his  feet  poor  sinners  sat, 

And  wept  to  hear  him  talk  of  grace. 

Young  men,  with  true  and  earnest  hearts. 
Gazed  on  him  with  adoring  eyes. 

And  left  the  lore  of  human  arts 

To  learn  the  wisdom  of  the  skies. 

The  stream  of  Truth  ran  freely    forth, 
And  swept  the  cloister  walls  away; 

Young  vestals  learned  the  love  of  earth, 
And  loving,  better  learned  to  pray. 

Such  fruits  the  great  Reformer  saw 
Hang  clustering  on  his  planted  tree; 

And  though  condemned  by  human  law, 
He  felt  himself  in  Christ  made  fre'e. 

His  was  the  lesson  deep  ingrained 

Within  the  tablature  of  life— 
That  freedom  of  the  soul   is  gained 

Alone  through  battle  and  through  strife. 

Oh,  be  his  holy  lessons  ours! 

Let  us  pursue  the  path  he  trod. 
And  prove,  in  face  of   human  powers, 

Bold  champions  of  the  Word  of  God! 


CHARLOTTE   A.   JERAULD. 

"Charlotte,"  as  she  was  affectionately  called  by  the  readers  among  our 
people  twenty-five  years  ago,  was  one  of  the  five  or  six  of  the  most  popular 
of  the  women  who  at  that  time  contributed  to  make  our  literature  attractive. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Fillebrown,  and  she  was  horn  in  Cambridge,  Mass., 
April  16,  1820.  The  home  of  her  parents,  Kichard  and  Charlotte,  was 
near  Harvard   University  at  the  time  of  her  birth,  but  in  early  childhood 


CHARLOTTE    A.    JERAULD.  99 

they  removed  to  Boston,  where  she  obtained  an  excellent  education  in  the 
common  schools  of  the  city,  and  at  a  very  early  age  evinced  a  remarkahle 
aptness  for  "compositions."  They  were  so  excellent  that  the  teacher  thought 
she  was  shining  in  borrowed  jewels,  and,  to  test  her,  gave  her  a  subject  and 
a  certain  length  of  time  to  write  a  certain  number  of  verses.  Charlotte's 
indignation  was  aroused,  and  with  a  defiant  pride  she  took  the  stint,  and 
more  than  accomplished  it.  Her  school  was  visited  one  day  by  Daniel 
Webster  and  Henry  Clay.  The  teacher  read  some  of  the  compositions 
and  the  honorable  gentlemen  requested  , that  the  writer  of  one  be  pointed 
out  to  them.  It  proved  to  be  Charlotte;  an  introduction  was  asked  and 
favored;  both  gentlemen  complimented  her,  and  Mr.  Clay  said,  "I  wish 
you  were  a  boy;  I  would  make  a  statesman  of  you." 

Charlotte  and  her  father  were  very  faithful  friends ;  he  seemed  to  fully 
realize  what  nature  had  done  for  hjs  child,  and  she  was  his  pride.  She 
loved  him  in  return  most  faithfully,  and  she  was  full  of  heart,  and  in  sym- 
pathy with  and  eloquent  for  all  in  distress.  Although  but  nine  years  old 
when  her  father  died,  she  fainted. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  years  she  was  compelled  to  support  herself  by  toil, 
and  her  preference  was  to  go  where  she  could  have  something  to  do  with  books, 
and  consequently  she  entered  a  book-bindery,  and  it  proved  to  be  the  place 
where  the  "Ladies,  Repository"  was  bound,  and  owing  to  this  fact,  perhaps, 
her  first  essay  for  publication  was  sent  to  that  periodical. 

Rev.  Henry  Bacon,  in  his  memoir  of  Charlotte,  describes  the  beginning 
of  her  literary  life  in  the  following  way,  "We  availed  ourself  of  the  first 
opportunity  to  introduce  ourself  to  the  discovered  'Charlotte,'  to  whom, 
through  the  'Repository,'  we  had  said  many  encouraging  things.  We  had 
felt  a  religious  interest  in  her,  from  discovering  that,  while  unknown  to  us, 
she  had  attended  public  worship  wherever  we  chanced  to  officiate  in  Boston 
or  its  immediate  vicinity.  We  first  met  her  in  the  bindery,  engaged  busily 
in  folding  'signatures'  of  the  'Repository,'  and  were  charmed  with  the  per- 
fect simplicity  of  her  deportment.  She  lost  no  time,  at  our  request,  in 
folding,  while  we  conversed,  and  the  unpretending  frankness  of  her  speech 
and  look  let  us  at  once  into  her  estimable  character.  We  saw  then  what 
was  more   clearly  revealed   in   after  time,   that  the   cheerful   and  vivacious 


100  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

aspect  which  she  wore  was  but  as  the  stream  that,  sparkling,  flows  above  the 
deep  arid  strong  river,  holding  its  course  steadily  to  the  solemn  sea.  Her 
conversation  was  the  speech  of  one  who  would  be  agreeable  to  her  friends, 
that  friendly  feeling  might  increase,  but  which,  at  the  same  time,  had  a  vein 
of  deep  thoughtfulness  that  made  known  the  richness  of  the  interior  charac- 
ter. She  felt  aspirings  that  she  could  not  gratify.  She  was  environed  with 
the  necessity  to  toil,  and  toil  brought  wearine&s,  and  weariness  unfitted  the 
mind  for  intellectual  effort  when  it  would  fain  struggle  and  be  free.  The 
beautiful  inducements  flowing  out  of  the  pride  which  others  take  in  the  efforts 
of  the  one  they  deem  'gifted,'  and  to  whom  they  would  give  every  facility 
to  develop  their  talent,  were  not  hers.  Few,  very  few,  who  imagine  their 
lot  hard,  and  no  opportunities  afforded  them  to  be  'anything'  are  less 
favored  than  was  she  when  she  fixed  her  purpose  and  made  her  first  efforts. 
She  had  the  character  that  ventures  where  the  soul  points  the  way." 

A  very  warm  friendship  at  once  sprang  up  between  her  and  Sarah 
Edgarton,  between  whom  and  herself  close  affinities  existed,  and  a  life-long 
correspondence  ensued,  a  beautiful  illustration  of  which  is  the  sonnets  on  the 
Lord's  Prayer,  written  by  them  alternately.  We  know  of  nothing  in  our  lit- 
erature on  that  great  topic  finer  than  these  splendid  strains. 

In  1841  Charlotte  published  her  first  prose,  a  pleasing  story — "Emma 
Beaumont."  Soon  after  appeared  "Margaret  Leslie,"  a  story  which,  Sarah 
Edgarton  said,  "almost  cheated  her  into  the  belief  that  the  plot  was  real, 
which  is  a  proof  of  no  ordinary  skill." 

In  1842  she  passed  a  week  in  Lowell,  with  Miss  Edgarton,  at  the  home 
of  that  rare  man,  who  combines  the  poet  and  critic,  the  philosopher  and  the 
theologian,  the  genial  wit  and  the  tender  Christian  as  they  are  rarely  com- 
bined in  one  organization — Thomas  Baldwin  Thayer,  and  here  she  enjoyed 
her  first  communion,  which  she  thus  commemorated: 

THE    FIRST    COMMUNION. 

The  table  of  the  Crucified,  the  Messed  Lord,  whs  sot, 
And  round  the  sacred  board  the  few,  the  well  beloved,  were  met: 
While  iln-   young  herald  of  the  Cross,  with  earnest  voice  and  eye. 
Told    how  the  Son  of  God  was  born  to  suffer  and  to  die! 

Be  spake,  in  deeply  moving  tones,  of  dark  Gethsemane, 

\nd   Kadi'  : i i^  listeners  behold  the  Mount  ,>f  Calvary: 


CHARLOTTE    A.     JERAULD.  101 

And.  as  the  fearful  Bcenes  arose,  their  eycB  with  tears  grow  dim, 
And  each  believing  heart   was  stirred  with  sympathy  for  him. 

The  old,  with  deeply  furrowed  cheek  and  silver  Locks,  were  there; 

The  brightly  b'eamiug  eye  of  youth,  the  pale,  wan  cheek  of  care; 

The  sinful  came,   with  quaking  heart,  bul   met  no  withering  frown, 
And   at  the    feet  Of  Jesus    laid   their   heavy    burthens   down. 

And  one  there    w   S   amid   the   group,    who   ne'er   had  dared  before 
With  Christians  to  commemorate  the  sufferings  Jesus  bore; 
Although  her  spirit   long  had  yearned,  amid  its  deepest   night, 
To  burst  the  iron  doors  of  sin  and  hail  the  glorious  light. 

The  maiden  was  not  one  to   whom   the  flatterer  paid  his  vow. 
For  beauty  ne'er  had   shed   its   Light    upon   her  dark,   sad    brow; 
Her  voice  had   naught    of   music,   and  her  step   was   void  of   grace, 
And  genius  added  not  a  charm  to  that  unlovely  face. 

But,   oh!   she   had   a   loving  heart,   that  mourned,   although    in   vain, 
To  see  its  wealth,   poured  freely  forth,  return  unblessed  again; 
And  so,  with  bowed  and  contrite  soul— to  him  an  offering  sweet- 
She  laid  its  priceless  treasure  down  at  her  Redeemer's  feet! 

Much  of  the  development  of  her  genius  was  due  to  the  influence  of  Eev. 
Henry  Bacon,  whose  appreciative  biography  describes  her  beautiful  life  in 
fitting  terms. 

Nov.  19,  1843,  she  was  married  to  J.  W.  Jerauld,  and  subsequently  she 
divided  her  time  between  domestic  cares  and  literary  pursuits,  producing 
most  of  the  stories,  sketches  and  poems  found  in  the  volume  "Poetry  and 
Prose,  by  Mrs.  Charlotte  A.  Jerauld,  with  a  memoir  by  Henry  Bacon,  Bos- 
ton. A.  Tompkins,  38  Cornhill,  1860,"  which  first  appeared  in  the  "Reposi- 
tory" and  "Rose  of  Sharon." 

On  the  last  week  of  July,  1845,  her  child  was  born;  on  the  third  day 
after  her  mind  wandered,  and  in  a  few  hours  she  became  a  raving  maniac. 
Her  child  died  August  1st,  and  Charlotte  followed  on  the  2d.  On  the  suc- 
ceeding Sabbath  she  was  buried  from  Warren -street  Church,  Revs.  Hosea 
Ballou,  Sebastian  Streeter,  and  Otis  A.  Skinner,  officiating.  Her  body 
reposes  in  Mt.  Auburn.  Such  are  the  brief  outlines  of  a  rare  and  beautiful 
life,  that  exhaled  from  earth  at  the  early  age  of  twenty-five,  having  made  a 
lasting  record  in  those  few  brief  years.     A  rich  harvest  for  the  great  Reaper! 

Rev.  Henry  Bacon,  who  knew  the  writer  intimately,  and  who,  possess- 


102  OUR    WO  MAM    WORKERS. 

mg  a  rare  psychological  insight,  was  thoroughly  competent  to  analyze  her 
character,  thus  describes  her: 

"Charlotte  hved  to  love.  Her  fondest  wish  was  to  be  loved  by  the  estima- 
ble and  the  good,  and  one  of  the  chief  sorrows  of  her  life  was  the  fear  that  she 
appeared  frivolous  to  those  whose  love  coidd  be  won  only  by  that  depth  of  char- 
acter to  which  gayety  was  but  as  the  foam  of  the  wave  to  the  sea.  Her  keen 
sense  of  the  ludicrous  was  regarded  by  her  as  her  'evil  genius.'  It  was  active 
eveiywhere,  and  yet  was  accompanied  by  the  most  profound  reverence  for 
things  holy,  and  appreciation  of  things  beautiful.  Such  a  union  is  not  com- 
mon, and  we  must  vindicate  it  ere  we  enter  upon  the  memoir.  The  merriest 
things  have  been  written  and  said  when  the  intensest  pain  was  felt,  and  the 
deepest  melancholy  was  on  the  soul.  This  vein  was  rich  in  our  friend  Char- 
lotte, but  it  never  threw  a  richness  of  humor  over  anything  bad.  It  poured 
out  its  affluence  as  a  bird  sings,  as  a  brook  glitters,  as  the  phosphorescence  of 
the  sea  charms  the  voyager;  but  as  that  bird  could  fly  heavenward,  and  that 
brook  held  its  course  to  the  river,  and  that  phosphorescence  took  nothing  from 
the  majesty  and  glory  of  the  sea,  so  the  mind  and  heart  of  Charlotte  possessed 
the  loftier  and  holier  tendencies.  Throughout  her  diversified  correspondence, 
gayety  of  thought  and  feeling  is  met,  wit  sparkles  and  glitters ;  but  never 
does  it  minister  to  malicious  feeling  or  ungenerous  criticism.  It  is  a  play 
of  words  that  adds  to  the  garden  its  butterflies,  to  the  mill-stream  its  foamy 
brilliants.  Such  a  restraint  of  a  spontaneous  power  is  as  fine  an  inlet  to 
character  as  any  revelation  can  give;  for  as  we  read  of  Jesus,  he  is  known 
by  his  silence  as  well  as  by  his  speech.  There  is  a  weakness  of  character 
where  fitness  of  time  and  occasion  is  not  thought  of  in  indulging  wit  and 
humor;  there  is  strength  when  the  proper  restraint  is  continuously  imposed. 

"A  new  existence  now  dawned  on  Charlotte.  She  was  brought  into  a 
society  she  was  fitted  to  ornament  and  enjoy.  Acquaintance  ripened  speed- 
ily into  friendship,  and  friendship  partook  of  the  best  elements  of  perpetuity. 
She  felt  what  a  world  of  feeling,  sympathy  and  aspiration  lies  hidden  within 
the  soul,  waiting  the  bidding  of  the  appropriate  power  to  call  it  forth. 
Timid,  weighed  down  by  the  small  estimate  she  formed  of  herself,  and  look- 
ing with  an  artist's  eye  on  superior  works  in  the  line  of  her  efforts,  she 
needed  the  help  of  natures  on  which  she  could  lean  in  trustfulness,  and  to 


CHARLOTTE    A.    JERAULD.  108 

which  she  could  look  up  for  confidence.  To  feel  that  ours  is  the  friendship 
of  the  wise  and  good — to  find  them  opening  to  us  the  rich  stores  of  their  well- 
freighted  minds,  as  though  we  could  appreciate  the  treasures  they  presented 
— gives  to  the  shrinking  and  fearful  a  confidence  in  themselves  hy  making 
them  feel  the  powers  thus  addressed.  It  whs  thus  with  her.  She  had 
friends  she  reverenced.  They  were  to  her  the  wise  and  good.  She  felt  the 
inlluence  of  their  presence,  their  conversation,  their  letters.  Instinctively 
her  nature  was  richly  developed,  and  ere  she  hardly  knew  of  the  change,  she 
was  intimate  with  them,  and  poured  out  the  affluence  of  her  soul  with  per- 
fect and  beautiful  frankness  and  simplicity.  She  won  upon  her  friends  by 
this  perfect  freedom  from  affectation.  She  greatly  disliked  everything  that 
bore  any  likeness  to  affected  speech  or  manner;  and  nothing  excited  more 
overwhelmingly  the  sense  of  the  ludicrous  than  the  mask  of  ceremony  worn 
where  simple  nature  should  only  be  seen.  No  matter  where  the  mockery  was 
seen,  whether  at  church  or  in  the  parlor,  incongruities  were  ludicrous ;  and 
we  may  be  sure  that  in  this  case  a  true  sense  of  the  absurd  was  accompanied 
by  an  acute  perception  of  order  and  harmony.  Not  lightness  of  feeling,  but 
because  of  a  profound  reverence  for  religion,  she  was  moved  to  irresistible 
mirth  whenever  stiff  and  starched  ceremony  came  where  only  nature 
belonged." 

Sarah  C.  E.  Mayo  thus  describes  her  friend:  "She  wrote,  not  from  liter- 
ary ambition,  but  from  an  overfull  heart,  as  a  bird  sings,  or  a  lamb  sports, 
and' scattered  her  melodies 

As    an  oak  looseneth  its  golden  leaves 
In   kindly   Largess  to  tin-  soil  it  grew  on. 

Poetry  wras  to  her  the  green  tree  under  which  she  rested  after  her  daily  toils. 
She  gathered  no  fruit  from  its  boughs,  but,  listening  with  charmed  ear  to 
murmuring  strains  amid  its  foliage,  her  spirit  caught  the  melody  and  warbled 
it  aloud.  Considering  Charlotte's  poetry,  then,  as  a  spontaneous  thing  upon 
which  she  had  bestowed  no  culture,  and  from  which  she  expected  no  fruits, 
it  would  be  in  bad  taste  to  apply  to  it  any  other  than  the  simplest  aesthetic 
rules.  Was  it  pure?  Was  it  simple?  Was  it  true'.'  There  can  be  but  one 
answer.  Sketched  she  a  little  cottage,  how  clearly  it  stood  out  upon  the 
landscape,  with  its  mossy  roof  and  overhanging  elms.     Was  an  old  country 


101  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

well  her  theme,  how  temptingly  trickled  the  clear  drops  over  the  hrim  of  its 
mossy  bucket.  And  those  fair  young  cottage  maidens,  all  after  Goethe's  pat- 
tern were  they,  with  their  clear  blue  eyes,  pure,  loving  hearts,  and  gay,  ring- 
ing laughter. 

"Her  stories  are  written  with  much  colloquial  ease,  and  evince  a  talent 
which  by  cultivation  might  have  insured  her  an  honorable  place  among  the 
story  writers  of  the  day.  Her  heroines  are  not  all  run  in  one  niould.  Lucy 
Murray,  Margaret  Leslie,  Isadore  De  Vaux,  are  not  three  reflections  of  the 
same  woman ;  they  do  not  run  together  like  raindrops,  but  preserve  an  indi- 
vidual character. 

"Her  poetry  is  simple,  tender,  and  full  of  delicate  rural  pictures.  In 
many  of  her  poems  she  has  displayed  gushings  of  tenderness.  It  is  a  ten- 
derness touched  with  pity — a  pathos  that  melts,  but  does  not  rend  our  hearts." 

Miss  Edgarton  says:  "We  count  among  the  freshest  and  sweetest  of  her 
poems  the  dewy  httle  stanzas, — 'Violets.'  "     We  quote  but  the  closing  three: 

Pretty,  modest  violets, 


Many  a  damsel  twists 
Your  glistening   amethysts. 
Amid  the  rich  luxuriant  tresses 
Which  the  soft  South  wind  caresses, 
In  his  sportive  play. 

Fairest  of  the  flowers 
Nursed  by  April  showers, 
When  the  long  green  grass  shall  wave 
Luxuriant  o'er  my  lowly  grave, 
Shed  your  perfume  there! 

Pretty,  purple  violets, 
Soft,   low-breathing  violets, 
I  shall    hear,  at  twilight  dim. 
The  chiming  cadence  of  your  hymn. 
Lulling  me  to  rest! 

Such  is  the  character  of  "Carrie"  and  "Clara,"  "The  Old  Wife  to  her 
Husband,"  and  "  The  Hying  Wife  to  her  Husband,"  this  last  a  beautiful 
poem,  and  prophetic  of  her  own  fate. 

Mr.  Bacon  thus  closes  his  sketch  of  this  gifted  woman:   "Poor,  obscure, 


HARRIET    (i.    PERRY.  105 

required  to  toil,  having  but  the  limited  advantages  of  education  which  are 
secured  to  the  humblest,  she  put  forth  her  powers  timidly,  hut  successfully, 
as  the  Russian  violet  springs  up  amid  the  frozen  soil;  and  when  sickness 
prostrated  her  energies,  just  as  she  was  beginning  to  make  better  efforts,  she 
murmured  not,  and  only  asked  to  have  her  pining  for  the  sight  of  flowers  and 
for  the  breath  of  the  sweet-scented  field  answered.  God's  gift  was  better 
than  she  prayed  for.     She  is  now  to  us  a  memory  and  a  hope." 

From  the  volume  compiled  by  Mr.  Bacon  we  select  the  following  poem : 

WE  HAVE  BEEN  Fit  I  ENDS  TOGETHER. 

We  have  been  friends  together,  in  happy  days  lang  syne; 

My   heart  has   felt  thy   sorrows,   anil    thou    hast    shared    in    mine; 

But  n<nv,  alas!    that   holy   light   lias   vanished  from  thy    brow,— 

We  have  been  friends  together,— why  are  we  parted   now? 

We  have  walked  and  sat  together  'neath  the  solemn  forest  shades, 
We  have  laughed  and  sang  together  in  the  green  and  sunny  glades; 
And  are  they  all   forgotten  now,  those   bright   and  gladsome  days? 
And   shall   those  ancient  woods   no   more   re-echo  to  our  lavs? 

Through   the  gay   resorts   of  pleasure   have  our   merry   fo  itsteps  roved; 
We  have  wept  sad  tears  together,  by  the  graves  of  those  we  loved; 
And  though   tin'   silver  cord   is  loosed,   let    memory   whisper  thee, 
"We  have   been  friends  together  if  nevermore   we  be." 

We  have  been  friends  together;    and  oh.  'tis  hard  to  part 

The  tendrils   that    have  twined   so  close   around   my   inmost  heart; 
Nor  mine   alone.— for   still,    despite    the   coldness   of  thine   eye, 
I'm   sure   thou    can's!  not   quite   forget    the   sunny   hours  gone  by. 

And   when   thy  thoughts  turn    wearily   to  muse  upon  the  past. 
And  thy   mind    reverts   to   former  days,   too  beautiful   to   last. 
Then  let  Faith's  angel-finger  point  thy  guttering  eyes  above, 
Where  broken  friendships  are  unknown,  for  all  is  perfect  love. 


HARRIET    G.   PERKY. 

This  model  Christian  woman  was  born  in  Norwich,  Conn.,  Sept.  11, 
1812.  Her  maiden  name  was  Haskell.  The  larger  part  of  her  youth  was 
passed  with  her  grandparents  in  Preston,   Conn.,   where  she  had  only  the 


106  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

advantages  of  a  country  school,  but  her  thirst  for  knowledge  aided  her  in 
overcoming  every  obstacle  until  she  developed  a  mind  of  unusual  strength 
and  clearness.  She  wrote  some  very  sweet  little  poems  when  about  four- 
teen years  of  age,  and  from  that  time  on  poetry  was  the  only  pastime  and 
recreation  of  a  busy  life. 

She  was  married  to  John  B.  Perry,  June  28,  1835,  and  became  the 
mother  of  six  children,  of  whom  but  two  are  living — Mrs.  Lucy  H.  Chapman 
and  Mrs.  Harriet  Perry  Geer,  from  whom  I  have  obtained  most  of  the  facts 
I  shall  present.  She  was  a  busy  housewife  and  a  most  faithful  and  devoted 
mother,  and  her  daughter  says  it  was  always  a  mystery  to  her  family  and 
intimate  friends  how,  with  so  frail  a  constitution  and  feeble  body,  she 
accomplished  so  much.  Until  the  very  last  of  her  life  she  was  very  watch- 
fid  of  the  comforts  of  the  sick.  No  one  within  reach  of  her  was  ever 
neglected,  and  she  always  conversed  upon  the  comfort  of  her  beautiful  faith 
and  perfect  trust  in  it  in  such  a  manner  that  the  darkened  rooms  were 
filled  with  sunlight  and  mourning  hearts  with  faith. 

Mrs.  Geer  says:  "I  have  heard-  her  say  that  she  could  not  remember 
a  moment  when  she  was  free  from  pain,  but  she  never  murmured  at  the 
divine  will,  but  fought  the  battle  bravely,  striving  to  live  for  the  sake  of  her 
loved. ones  long  after  life  must  have  ceased  to  be  a  blessing  to  her."  Mrs. 
E.  Louisa  Mather  says  of  her:  "I  had  glimpses  of  her  saintly  soul  in  let- 
ters writteii  to  me  for  thirty-three  years.  Her  letters  strengthened  and 
helped  me  very  much,  each  one  was  a  sermon  to  my  thirsty  spirit,  and  helped 
me  onward  in  the  pathway  of  progress  and  truth.  Living  as  I  did  where  I 
could  not  "have  the  religious  privileges  my  soul  craved,  her  letters  supplied 
the  missing  sermons,  for  they  were  tenderly  religious  and  encouraging. 
Then  she  was  so  unassuming,  so  modest,  so  true  and  loving,  that  all  who 
knew  her  as  I  did — and  the  influence  of  her  saintly  living  was  wide-spread — 
must  miss  her  helpful  service  and  her  heavenly  counsels."  Another  friend 
who  had  known  her  for  many  years,  and  had  been  with  her  through  many 
seasons  of  joys  and  sorrows,  of  which  her  life  was  full,  writes:  "She  was 
one  of  God's  saints,  a  perfect  Christian,  and  none  knew  her  but  to  love  her." 

The  most  of  Mrs.  Perry's  writings  were  for  the  "Ladies'  Eepository." 
From  1840  and  onward  she  wrote  for  our  denominational  papers,  and  every 


HARRIET    G.    PERRY.  107 

thing  she  has  written  breathes  the  spirit  of  the  faith  she  graced  by  her  beau- 
tiful life.  Rev.  L.  P.  Blackford,  her  pastor,  says:  "Her  life  was  veiy  quiet 
and  unostentatious,  and  the  sphere  of  her  influence  was  her  family,  her 
neighborhood  and  her  church." 

Mrs.  Perry  died  Jan.  lGth,  1881,  of  consumption.  Her  mind  was  clear 
to  the  last,  and  only  a  few  weeks  previous  to  her  death  she  laid  aside  her  pen 
never  to  take  it  up  again,  saying:  "My  brain  is  weary  and  my  hand  powerless. 
I  must  give  it  all  up." 

The  "Christian  Leader"  soon  after  her  decease  published  the  following: 

"Mrs.  Perry  was  a  poet,  and  possessed  the  poetic  insight.  She  was  espe- 
cially sensitive  to  every  appeal  of  the  true,  the  good  and  the  beautiful.  In 
past  years  the  'Ladies'  Repository'  and  other  denominational  papers  con- 
tained poems  from  her  pen.  In  recent  years,  however,  owing  to  her  failing 
health,  she  has  written  but  little;  but  she  has  given  to  her  family  and  her 
church  the  garnered  wisdom  of  many  years.  With  a  fragile  frame  she  had  a 
brilliant  mind  and  one  of  the  purest  and  sweetest  Christian  spirits  with 
which  it  has  ever  been  our  privilege  to  commune  on  earth.  Of  all  the  sainted 
sisterhood  whose  sympathy  we  have  enjoyed  during  a  ministry  of  forty  years, 
there  was  in  her  a  combination  of  intelligence,  devotion,  efficiency  and  untir- 
ing zeal  which  would  place  her  at  the  head.  We  have  never  known  one  to 
whose  approval  or  disapproval  we  shoidd  feel  more  deeply  sensitive.  She  had 
a  spiritual  intuition  akin  to  inspiration,  and  a  sense  of  propriety  in  matters  per- 
taining to  religion  approaching  the  infallible.  With  a  retiring,  an  unassum- 
ing nature,  she  was  always  made  a  leader  in  the  church,  and  had  the  gift  of 
wise  and  ready  utterance.  Some  of  her  poems  have  much  merit,  and  one  on 
the  death  of  a  son  is  worthy  of  preservation  in  'The  Library  of  Poetry  and 
Song.'  We  had  corresponded  thirty  years;  and  her  last  letter  is  still  unan- 
swered. She  was  a  most  devoted  member  of  our  church,  and  a  beautiful 
example  of  our  faith.  She  gave  to  the  church  her  best  thought  and  effort. 
In  the  conference  meeting  she  will  be  sadly  missed,  for  there  she  always 
spoke  as  though  face  to  face  with  God;  and  to  us,  who  heard  her  and  saw 
her  face,  it  seemed  the  face  of  an  angel. " 

The  record  of  such  lives  is  not  in  what  they  have  written  hi  prose  or 
verse;  nor  in  results  of  which  the  senses  can  take  cognizance.     It  is  in  the 


108  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

hearts  and  lives  of  those  who  have  heen  touched  by  their  unseen   and  silent 
power. 

^<»  quote  this  from  the  many  sweet  strams  of  this  saintly  woman. 

GOOD    AND    ILL. 

God  of  the  life  whose  troubled  tide 
Flows  thro'  creation,  deep  and  wide. 
Thy  loving  purpose  threads  all  ill, 
From  Eden's  gate  to  Zion's  hill. 

Rbv.  E,  W.  Reynolds. 

The  morn  in  joy  and  gladness  wakes, 

The  sun  rejoices  in  his  might, 
And  all  creation's  harmonies 

Awake  to  bathe  in  golden  light. 
Above,  beneath,  on  every  side 

Glad  sounds  are  heard,    glad  sights  are  seen; 
Earth's  fearful  millions  worship  now, 

With  spirits  trustful  and  serene, 
They  worship  him    the    perfect  One. 

Whose  blessings  o'er  the  earth  distill; 
With  reverent  love  they  bow  the  knee 

To  him  who  does  his  holy  will. 

But  let  a  cloud  that  sun  obscure, 

Let  nature  cease  her  joyful  hymn, 
Let  stormy  winds  discordant  roar, 

Glad  sounds  be  mute,    glad  sights  grow  dim! 
Let  flowing  fount  and  fruitful  field, 

And  flocks  and  herds  fail,  one  by  one, 
Then  will  earth's  trusting  millions  say 

"Thy  will,  thy  perfect  will,  be  done?" 
Alas!    their  day  hath  turned  to  night; 

The  good  they  worship'd  changed  to  ill; 
Yet  high  above  their  thoughts  and  ways 

God  worketh  ou1   liis  holy  will. 

When  health  is  coursing  through  each  vein, 

And  life   all  fresh   and  gay  is  ours, 
When   with  light  heart  and  feet  we  roam, 

And  "scarce  can  see  the  grass,  for  flowers," 
Or  when,  wrapt  in  luxurious  ease, 

We  fear  no  cold  of  sky  or  hearts, 
When   the   warm    breath    <>f  human  love 

Its  Incense  to  our  lives  imparts; 
When  health   ami    wealth  and  friends  are  ours, 

And   love   and   joy   our   steps   attend, 
Oh,  then,  how  easily  we  trace 

The  hand  which  doth  such  blessings  send. 


HARRIET    G.     FERRY.  100 

But  let  a  wasting  sickness   come, 

To   pale   the   chi'i'k   ami   dim   tlio    eye— 
jiifi  all  the  streams  of  life  run  low, 

Ami  sadly  whisper,  "Thou  must,  die!" 
Lot  poverty  With  ruthless  wand 

Our  golden    idols   turn   to   dust — 
Lot  slander  aim  its  cruel  darts, 

'Till  we  no  human  soul  ran  trust- 
Let  health,  ami  wraith,  and  joy  depart, 

And  love  in  kindred  hearts  grow  chill, 
Still   will   we   trust    and    numbly    say 

God  works  through  all   his    perfecl   will! 

Aye!  God  ran  turn   thy   day   to   eight! 

But  night   with   him   is  like  the  day; 
Tis  out  of  furs  he  maketh  friends; 

And    both    to   him   shall    honor    pay* 
Through  changeful  mediums  he  conducts 

The  changeless  good  thou  seest  afar! 
Ask   nut  all   light-  enough  to  know 

His  darkness  never  paled  a  star! 
Eternal   Father!    help  thy   child 

Thro'  earth-born  mists  to  see  thee  still! 
To  know  through    ill  thou  makest   good. 

For  thou   art   Love!    "Love  works  no  ill." 

A    LEAF    FROM    MY    EXPERIENCE. 

I  know  not  how  if  is  with  others,  hut  I  And  the  extreme  heat  of  Summer 
unfavorable  to  mental  labor.  The  mind  is  not  inactive,  hut  it  larks  the  power  to 
condense  and  arrange,  or  to  fix  itself  upon  anything.  Life  becomes  like  a  pano- 
rama, or  rather  a  succession  of  dissolving  views.  Visions  of  the  past  come  ami 
go,  visions  of  the  future  mingle  with  the  past,  and  even  the  present  seems  dreamy 
and  unreal.  With  the  mind  in  this  state,  it  would  he  impossible  to  write  anything 
hut  a,  "Medley."     Here  and  there,  however,  a,    page  of   the  past  stands  out   in  such 

pr inence  as  to  have   become  a  fixture,  and   the  mind    finds  it   always  condensed 

ami  arranged  beyond  the  possibility   of  change.     I   ran    turn    to  many   such    pages 
in  my  life-experience,  one  of  which    if  you  will  allow  the  egotism— I  will  transcribe. 

It  was  in  the  Summer  of  1841;  three  dear  "little  ones"  blessed  my  home 
with  the  light  of  their  winsome  ways,  with  the  joy  of  their  innocent  prattle. 
Being  a  zealous  religionist,  and  a  believer  in  the  limitarian  theology,  ami  feeling 
all  the  responsibility  a  mother  could  feel  for  the  safety  ami  well-being  of  those 
dearer  to  her  than  life,  I  strove  amid  hopes  and  fears  to  lead  them  to  Christ  ami 
to  God;  and  as  they  kneeled  around  me,  ami.  Looking  up  into  my  face,  said, 
"Our  Father"  ami  other  little  prayers,  I  really  supposed  I  was  leading  them  unto 
him  who  gave  thrni  to  nir;  to  the  true  God  and  Father.  Ah!  how  little  did  I 
know  that  they  were  silently,   yet   surely,   leading  me  instead! 

Ah!   those  terrible  misgivings  which  would  come,  as  I  gazed  with   love  unut- 
terable   upon    them —that    I    hail    been    instrumental    in    giving    them    an    existence 


110  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

which  might— and  probably  would,  to  some  of  them— prove  an  endless  curse!  while 
love  grew  with  each  added  day,  until  it  seemed  that  all  my  heart-strings  were 
clasped  in  their  little  dimpled  hands.  Oh,  how  vainly  did  I  strive  to  evade  the 
thought  of  the  terrible  responsibility  of  a  mother's  position  in  the  face  of  even  a 
doubt  of  life's  final  issues.  I  pity  the  mother  who  feels  what  I  then  felt,  and  pity 
her  all  tire  more  who —believing  thus —could  feel  less;  such  experiences  as  that 
taught  me  that  such  a  faith  destroys  all  the  rich  blessings  of  maternity,  and  turns 
the  noblest  joys  of  life  into  a  present  and  prospective  curse. 

Once  convinced  of  the  wrong,  and  my  nature  would  not  let  me  rest  until 
satisfaction  in  regard  to  it  was  obtained;  and  with  such  agonizing  fears  for  the 
darli:  gs  who  were  ever  with  me,  you  will  not  wonder  that  my  search  was  honest 
and  earnest  to  find  where  the  error  lay;  and  thanks  be  to  God,  I  did  not  seek  in 
vain!  Praise  to  his  holy  name  that  he  commissioned  the  "little  ones"  to  lead  me 
to  a  knowledge  of  himself. 

While  in  this  frame  of  mind,  seeking  and  praying  for  light,  I  attended  church 
(the  M.  E.  Church,  of  which  I  was  a  member),  and  heard  a  sermon  upon  the  par- 
able of  the  "Rich  Man  and  Lazarus."  The  preacher  did  not  allow  a  parabolic,  but 
gave  it  a  strictly  literal  interpretation;  spoke  of  the  nearness  of  hell  and  heaven, 
of  the  groans  made  in  the  one  being  heard  in  the  ether,  and  vice  versa;  in  short, 
he  showed  me  the  creed  I  had  accepted  from  childhood  in  its  true  light.  I  had 
often  heard  this  before,  but  now,  weak  in  body  and  worn  in  spirit,  I  could  not 
endure  it;  I  wept  during  th  i  entire  service.  At  the  close  a  good  sister  took  my 
hand,  and,  with  astonishment  in  every  featur  ',  begged  to  know  what  troubled  me? 
She  ought  to  have  been  more  astonished  had  I  been  tearless.  "The  sermon,"  said 
I;  "and,  dear  sister,  if  what  we  have  heard  be  true,  I  have  no  motive  left  to 
induce  me  to  strive  to  attain  heaven,  for  I  see  no  choice  between  the  two  places; 
I  never  could  be  happy  in  either."  She  did  not  attempt  to  console  me.  How 
could  she!  Returning  home,  I  sent  to  a  friend,  who  was  a  Universalist,  and  bor- 
rowed "Ballou  on  the  Parables,"  just  to  read  his  interpretation  of  this  one,  but  I 
did  read  the  whole  book.  The  morning  dawned,  not  yet  wholly  free  from  the 
mists  and  fogs  of  error,  but  destined  to  grow  brighter  and  fairer  to  the  perfect  day. 

A  new  singniflcance  to  life,  to  all  life  was  given;  and,  if  I  could,  how  gladly 
would  I  tell  to  any  mother  the  difference  in  the  joy,  the  bliss,  with  which  \  I 
embraced  the  next  cherub  which  came  to  my  home!  I  welcomed  it  to  the  earth 
as  to  a  home  prepared  by  a  loving  Father,  welcomed  it  to  the  love  of  my  own 
unbound  nature,  and  welcomed  it  to  a  life  which  was  to  prove  an  endless  blessing. 
It  was  lint  a  short  earthly  life  to  which  it  was  welcomed,  however,  for  I  was  soon 
called  t"  part  with  it,  ami  also  with  another,  a,  sweet  child  of  two  years.  It  was 
a  severe  trial,  but  I  felt  how  seasonably  the  blessing  of  a  now  faith  had  been 
given  Dae,  and  its  support  was  "sufficient  for  me";  death  itself  now  was  better  than 
life  had  been  without  it.  How  could  I  murmur?  Love,  too,  had  a  new  signifi- 
cance; before,  it  was  bound;  now,  it  was  right  to  give  it  free  course.  No  true 
love  was  idolatry  now,  and  it  grew  at  once  into  its  immortal  nature,  and  assumed 
its  Infinite  proportions,  and  need  never  be  suppressed,  as  if  only  led  directly  to  the 
God  of  Love.  I  knew  now  that  loved  ones  were  mine  in  any  world  where  my 
love  could  reach  them.  Since  that  time  trials  have  seemed  small,  because  of  the 
greatness  of  hope,  of  faith,  of  joy;  for  though  my  sky  be  overcast  with  clouds,  I 
feel 

"That  every  cloud  that  spreads  ahove 
And     .  eiletli    love,   itself  is   love." 


ELIZABETH    LOUISA    MATHER.  Ill 


ELIZABETH  LOUISA  MATHER. 

The  maiden  name  of  this  charming  lady  was  Foster,  and  she  was  bom 
in  East  Haddam,  Conn.,  Jan.  7,  1815.  She  is  from  a  highly  respectable 
family,  and  is  on  her  maternal  side  a  relative  of  Mrs.  Abel  C.  Thomas.  She 
was  baptized  in  the  Episcopal  Church,  of  which  her  parents  were  members, 
and  at  the  proper  age  was  confirmed.  June  18,  1837,  she  was  married  to  E. 
W.  Mather,  of  East  Haddam,  Conn.  Her  grandfather,  Joel  Foster,  A.  M., 
had  a  controversy  with  Eev.  Hosea  Ballou  when  the  latter  was  a  young  man. 
Her  father  came  from  Massachusetts,  and  settled  in  Connecticut  in  1809  or 
1810.  The  family  traces  its  descent  from  Miles  Standish,  the  Puritan  cap- 
tain of  Plymouth,  on  the  father's  side;  on  her  husband's  side  to  Richard 
Mather,  the  common  ancestor  of  ah  the  Mathers  in  this  country.  Her  hus- 
band's father  became  a  Universalist  in  his  old  age,  and  was  excommunicated 
from  the  Congregational  Church  on  that  account.  They  lived  in  Millington 
Society,  which  is  the  eastern  part  of  East  Haddam,  from  1837  to  1853,  thence 
moving  to  East  Haddam  Landing,  on  the  east  bank  of  the  Connecticut  River. 
In  both  places  occasional  meetings  were  held  in  schoolhouses  and  halls, 
where  Revs.  H.  Chaffee,  J.  Shrigley,  S.  C.  Bulkeley,  W.  A.  Stickney  and,  last 
of  all,  Father  Abraham  Norwood  preached.  In  the  early  days  of  her  mar- 
riage her  husband  took  the  "Universalist  Union,"  and  the  writings  of  Mrs. 
Julia  H.  Scott  arrested  her  attention,  and  she  became  a  convert  to  the  faith 
of  the  world's  salvation.     She  writes  me  at  the  age  of  sixty-seven: 

"How  glorious  are  the  pictures  which  memory  brings  before  me  in  these 
later  years,  when  my  tired  feet  are  going  down  life's  western  hillside,  and 
the  sands  in  my  hour-glass  are  passing  swiftly  on!  How  I  welcomed  the 
'  Repository '  to  my  humble  home ;  how  eagerly  I  read  the  writings  of  Mrs. 
Scott,  Mrs.  Jerauld,  Mrs.  Mayo,  Mrs.  Sawyer,  Mrs.  Livermore,  Mrs.  Monroe, 
Mrs.  Soule,  Anna  M.  Bates,  and  Miss  Remick;  howr  dear  even  as  household 
names  are  those  of  Chapin,  Bacon,  Sawyer,  Thomas,  Ballou,  and  Whitte- 
more — how  I  longed  to  listen  to  their  utterances! 

"There  was  no  liberal  church  nearer  than  Middletown,  which  was  more 


112  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

than  twenty  miles  away.  I  have  attended  only  two  general  conventions  of 
our  faith,  one  holden  at  Hartford,  Conn.,  September,  1847,  where  I  saw 
Father  Ballon,  Bros.  Greenwood,  Bacon,  Tompkins  arid  several  others. 
What  days  those  were !  I  could  scarcely  eat  or  sleep,  in  my  great  joy  of  look- 
ing and  hstening.  What  a  '  feast  of  fat  things '  was  spread  before  us ;  what 
an  unfailing  fountain  of  love  ineffable ;  what  unsounded  deeps  of  consolation, 
joy  and  peace !  We  also  went  to  the  General  Convention  at  Middletown, 
Conn.,  in  September,  1855.  There  I  grasped  Bro.  Whittemore's  hand,  and 
Bro.  Chapin's.  Long  and  tenderly  to  be  remembered  are  the  incidents  of 
that  blissful  time.  It  is  a  well-spring  of  pleasure  to  look  back  on  those  far- 
away times,  when  was  fully  revealed  to  my  waiting  spirit  'Our  Father,' 
whose  name  is  Love !  To  sum  it  up,  I  have  had  but  few  opportunities  to 
hear  liberal  preaching;  have  never  had  the  opportunity  to  connect  myself 
with  the  Universalist  Church,  or  to  have  acquaintance  with  but  very  few 
professing  that  faith;  although,  at  different  periods,  I  have  corresponded  with 
those  of  that  faith — a  few  dear  ones.  Mrs.  Perry  was  my  correspondent 
from  the  time  of  my  first  acquaintance  until  her  death — a  peiiod  of  thirty- 
three  years — half  of  my  life !  I  am  but  watching  and  waiting  to  go  to  her. 
In  lieu  of  actual  acquaintance,  what  comfort  I  took  in  writing  for  the  'Uni- 
versalist Union,'  the  'Ambassador,'  the  'Trumpet'  and  the  'Repository.' 
Living  in  an  out-of-the-way  place,  as  Milhngton  is,  how  I  welcomed  the  de- 
nominational papers !  Doing  all  of  my  household  work  of  all  kinds,  I,  of 
course,  had  but  little  time  for  reviewing  or  elaborating  my  productions. 
How  well  I  remember  receiving  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Livermore,  inviting  me  to 
write  for  the  '  Lily  of  the  Valley.'  I  had  but  two  days  to  do  a  fortnight's 
washing,  to  iron,  bake,  compose,  copy  and  get  my  poem  off.  Of  course  my 
productions  were  mediocre,  but  they  seemed  to  make  me  one  of  the  house- 
hold of  faith  which  I  so  loved — they  drew  me,  ;is  it  were,  into  the  charmed 
circle  of  the  dear,  dear  names  I  so  reverenced  and  cherished.  Thus,  but  for 
the  papers  I  received,  I  was  as  solitary  of  liberal  friends  as  Robinson  Crusoe 
on  his  island;  and  yet  not  so,  exactly,  for  I  had  valued  correspondents  who 
were  of  the  faith,  and  whose  words  and  sympathy  were  invaluable.  In  fine, 
through  all   these  forty-four  years  my  heart  has  thrilled  with  this  blessed 


ELIZABETH    LOUISA    MATHEB 


118 


hope,  even  through  toil,  discouragement,  trial  and  poverty.  My  love  for 
Universalisni  and  Universalists  has  never  abated,  although  I  know  and  have 
mingled  so  little  with  them.  Mrs.  Thomas  says  it  is  '  pathetic,'  my  clinging 
so  closely  to  them. 

"Now,  as  a  sequel  to  this  sketch,  can  you  beheve  that  I  have  joined  a 
Congregational  church?  It  is  a  small  church  not  far  from  my  home.  There 
were  several  who  wished  me  to  join — the  senior  deacon  said  I  ought  to  be 
one  of  them.  I  told  him  I  was  not 'orthodox.'  He  said  I  was  orthodox 
enough  for  him.  I  told  him  I  believed  all  would  be  saved.  He  said  he  did 
not  see  what  difference  it  made  whether  I  believed  all  or  a  pari  of  mankind 
were  to  be  saved;  what  he  wanted  was  Christian  character.  When  I  ap- 
peared before  the  Examining  Committee,  I  told  them  I  did  not  understand 
the  Trinity,  did  not  believe  in  endless  misery,  etc.,  in  fine,  believed  that 
our  Father  would  finally  bring  home  all  his  children  to  the  blessed  feast  of 
love  in  the  mountain  of  his  holiness.  I  urged  upon  them  not  to  receive  me 
if  they  could  not  fellowship  me,  for  I  should  still  go  to  church  and  love  them 
just  the  same.  I  felt  that  I  coidd  walk  with  them  in  Christian  love  and 
charity  if  they  received  me.  I  did  not  ask  to  be  received  into  the  church, 
but  was  invited  therein.  I  told  them  that  I  should  join  the  Universahst 
Church  if  I  ever  had  the  chance.  Well,  I  joined  them,  and  feel  it  my  right 
to  speak  in  favor  of  our  faith  at  all  convenient  seasons,  in  Bible  class  and 
church.  Was  received  into  membership  without  assenting  to  the  articles  of 
faith,  only  on  the  covenant  of  love  and  helpful  service.  Election  and  rep- 
utation no  longer  have  a  place  in  their  manual  of  faith.  Bro.  Norwood 
and  Mrs.  Perry  said  I  did  right  to  join  them;  other  friends  dissent  from  this 
view.  I  go  to  the  Universahst  church  whenever  I  can;  in  this  home  church 
I  find  progression  and  liberality;  I  trust,  God  helping,  to  do  a  little  good 
therein." 

Mrs.  Mather  has  written  essays,  stories  and  poems  for  the  "Ladies' 
Repository"  from  1847  to  1874,  for  the  "Trumpet,"  "Ambassador,"  "Golden 
Ride,"  "Odd  Fellows'  Offering,"  etc.,  on  religious  subjects,  capital  punish- 
ment, woman's  suffrage,  etc.  We  should  be  glad  to  quote  many  of  her 
poems,  but  the  following  must  suffice : 


114  OUK    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

MY    BIRTHDAY. 

Upon  my  rosary  of  years 
Another  bead  is  strung; 

And,  on  the  pathway  of  my  life, 
A  sunset  ray  is  flung! 

I  tell  my  beads— and,  as  they  fall, 
Adown  the  tide  of  time 

Come  ringing  echoes  of  the  past, 
Which  with  the  waters  chime. 

I  tell  my  beads— and  those  whose  feet 
Were  beauteous  on  life's  mount, 

With  me  are  ranging  smiling   meads, 
And   quaffing  Nature's   fount. 

I  hear  the  gliding  brook  give  out 

Its  gentle  roundelay— 
Amid  the  arching  forest  trees, 

Sunshine  and  shadow   play. 

Dimly  I  see  the    ruined  trace 
Of  castles   built   by   youth; 

Amid  the  chaos  linger  yet 
Halos  of  love  and  truth— 

A  fond  ideal,  which  shall  spring 
To  new  and  glorious  birth, 

When  passed  to  God's  eternal  home 
Beyond  this  changing  earth. 

I  tell  my  beads— and  childhood's  door 
Once  more  is  opened  wide; 

My  mother,  with  her  angel  lace, 
Is  sitting  by  my  side. 

Oh!    to  my  rosary  of  years 
Will  many  more  be  strung? 

Or  will  my  footsteps  Avander  where 
The  old  are  ever  young? 

My  Spring  and  Summer  both  have  gone 
Beyond   the    Ant  mini's   verge, 

I   stand   amid   the    wintry    winds. 
Where  the  sad  sea-waves  surge! 

Through    all    these    many    years  of  life 

Have    I     been    safely    led; 
My   cup   of  joy    hath    oft    been    full, 

My  sorrow  comforted! 


MAH.Y  HALL  ADAMS.  H5 

I  know  that  he  who  gives,  can  take, 

And  doeth  both  in  love; 
I  gladly  take  his  "strong  right  hand," 

Thai   Leadeth  me  above. 

Ami   80   with  joy   I  tread  along 

The  future  left  for  me. 
Knowing  I  soon  shall  reach  the  land 

Of  immortality! 


MARY   HALL    ADAMS 

Was  the  daughter  of  William  and  Mary  Barrett,  and  was  horn  in  Mai- 
den, Mass.,  Sept.  14,  1816.  The  mother  of  Mary  was  a  sister  of  charity 
among  the  poor  of  Maiden,  and  the  father  was  one  of  those  large-hearted 
men  who  are  ever  ready  to  do  their  duty  cheerfully.  Mr.  Barrett  helieved 
in  the  principles  of  Christian  Universalism,  and  with  his  wife  Mary  exem- 
plified those  principles  at  home  and  ahroad.  The  worthy  traits  of  these 
daily  living  Christians  were  transmitted  to  their  daughter.  But  she  did  not 
wait  for  the  mantle  to  fall,  hut  commenced  her  lahor  of  love  hefoie  they 
departed.  Rev.  Dr.  Cohb  says:  "When  we  commenced  our  pastoral  charge 
at  Maiden,  Maiy  Barrett  was  a  little  girl  of  twelve.  Though  her  father  was 
wealthy,  and  her  associates  were  of  the  first  class  socially,  she  was  ever 
modest  and  affable  in  her  manners  towards  all.  There  was  a  combination  of 
intellectuality  and  benevolence  in  her  expression,  and  her  highest  concern 
was  to  enrich  and  adorn  the  mind.  She  entered  heartily  and  efficiently 
into  the  work  of  the  Sunday-school.  Young  as  she  was,  she  became  a 
teacher  and  member  of  the  Bible  class.  She  joined  the  church  at  s-ixteen, 
and  was  ever  one  of  the  most  earnest  and  faithful  workers,  and  her  enlight- 
ened and  ever-glowing  spirit  of  devotion  added  to  the  spiritual  interest  of 
the  communion." 

When  quite  young  she  was  called  to  mourn   the  loss  of  sister,  father, 


116  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

brother  and  mother;  ah  died  of  consumption,  and  needed  great  care,  which 
she  took  upon  herself  with  an  unwearied  heart ;  but  f riends  saw  that  the 
frail  little  body  was  overdoing  itself,  but  her  comforting  was  so  sweet  to  the 
invalids  that  they  did  not  heed  the  wasting  frame. 

She  was  never  a  rollicking  school-girl,  but  ever  had  that  faculty  and 
grace  about  her  that  permitted  her  friends  to  indulge  in  their  gay  pastimes 
without  embarrassment,  although  she  ever  had  a  "half  sad  and  half  smiling 
face."  Mrs.  E.  A.  Bacon  Lathrop  gives,  as  a  reason  for  her  quiet  rensive- 
ness,  "An  early  life  of  sorrow,  and  consequent  care  as  an  older  sister  for 
the  broken  family  circle,  and  constant  liabilities  and  pressure  of  ill-health, 
put  this  touch  of  sadness  to  her  sweet  face,  added  a  singular  grace  and  dig- 
nity of  character  that  made  us  aU  love  and  reverence  her." 

In  November,  1839,  Mary  was  married  to  one  of  our  most  Christian 
and  influential  clergymen,  Rev.  J.  G.  Adams,  D.D. 

Quotations  from  her  letters  to  friends  will  at  once  enable  the  reader  to 
recognize  the  frank  simplicity  of  a  pure  womanly  heart : 

"  To  be  a  clergyman's  wife  has  from  my  childhood  been  the  acme  of  my 
desire ;  and  I  regard  the  day  of  my  marriage  as  the  commencement  of  my 
duties  and  pleasures,  in  anticipation  of  which  my  heart  is  joyous.  It  may 
be  a  way  of  trials,  vexations,  grievances.  Let  them  aU  conte !  There  has 
been  One  to  sustain  and  impart  fortitude  to  my  heart,  and  his  hand  will 
still  guide  and  uphold  me." 

To  another  she  wrote:  "I  am  very  sad  at  the  thought  of  leaving  so 
many  dear  friends,  and  this  old  home  my  parents  lived  and  died  in ;  and  then, 
too,  my  dear  mother,  upon  her  dying  pillow,  gave  into  my  charge  my  younger 
sisters  to  advise  and  counsel  as  far  as  was  in  my  power,  and  that  makes  it 
hard  indeed;  but  there  is  one  whose  home  I  am  bound  to  bless  and  cheer,  so 
think  of  me,  dear  friend,  on  the  evening,  about  the  time  I  shall  stand  at  the 
a  liar,  to  promise,  before  God  and  the  world,  what  my  heart  readily  yields — 
allegiance  to  the  laws  of  Christian  love  and  a  husband." 

And  so  this  beautiful  woman,  who,  if  she  had  been  in  the  Catholic 
Church,  would  have  been  canonized  as  a  saint  after  her  death,  took  hold  of 
the  duties  of  a  minister's  wife  understandingly.  But  she  inherited  the 
highest  type  of  Universalism,  that  which  refines,  moulds  and   purifies  the 


MAKY  HALL  ADAMS.  117 

heart,  and  puts  it  in  sympathy  with  everything  good,  and  so  it  was  as  easy 
as  smiling  for  her  to  cheer  the  downcast,  sympathize  with  the  afflicted,  and 
smooth  the  pillows  of  the  sick.  To  he  useful  to  others  whs  the  constant  pur- 
pose of  her  entire  life.  "Home  was  her  holiest  place,  and  there  she  lived 
unobtrusively,  but  faithful  to  both  home  and  church,  strengthened  in  heart 
and  soul  by  living  faith  in  God."  Twelve  years  in  the  home  of  her  child- 
hood she  lived  as  pastor's  wife,  and  with  those  old  familiar  friends  sus- 
tained herself  with  a  natural,  quiet,  sweet  dignity  and  fidelity  to  her  duties, 
that  enhanced  the  feelings  of  her  friends  to  a  kindness  toward  her  akin  to 
tenderness. 

Mrs.  Adams  edited  the  "Sabbath-School  Annual,''  published  by  Rev.  J.  M. 
Usher,  Boston,  for  three  years,  and  through  her  influence  the  pens  of  the 
best  authors  in  our  church  filled  the  "Annual"  with  the  most  instructive  and 
attractive  reading  for  our  young.  In  a  letter  to  one  who  assisted  her  by 
sending  communications,  Mrs.  Adams  wrote : 

"I  never  more  than  at  present  felt  the  necessity  of  well-directed  efforts 
to  keep,  to  win,  to  reclaim  the  young  from  what  is  wrong  and  unholy;  to  kindle 
a  love  of  pure  and  sound  instruction  within  them,  a  love  of  Christ  and  his 
precepts  in  their  hearts.  I  know  you  feel  with  me  the  importance  of  filling 
our  juvenile  papers  and  books  with  instructive  lessons  in  morality  and  religion. 

"We  must  think  and  talk  more  of  heaven  and  God.  We  must  not  leave 
'Father  in  heaven'  and  'better  home'  to  be  mentioned  only  in  prayers  and  in 
Sunday-school.  We  must  talk  of  these  things  in  the  sunlight,  over  the 
needle,  around  the  hearth  on  Monday  or  Tuesday,  and  not  consider  them 
Sunday  or  sick-bed  topics  nor  leave  them  for  the  minister." 

Among  her  warmest  friends  were  Sarah  Edgarton  (Mrs.  Mayo),  Charlotte 
Fillebrown  (Mrs.  Jerauld),  Mrs.  E.  A.  Bacon  Lathrop,  Rev.  E.  H.  Chapin, 
D.D.,  Rev.  T.  Starr  King,  Rev.  Hosea  Ballou,  Rev.  S.  Streeter,  Br.  H. 
Ballou  2d,  Rev.  Thomas  Whittemore,D.D.,  Rev.  L.  R.  Paige,  D.D.,  Rev.  0. 
A.  Skinner,  D.B.,  Rev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  B.D.  Mrs.  Adams'  real  Christian 
fortitude  shone  forth  when  one  of  her  heart- jewels  was  transported  to  heaven. 
She  did  not  submit  without  a  struggle,  for  the  mother-love  was  strong  and 
tender,  but  with  a  sorrowing  heart  she  submitted  to  God's  will,  because  he  had 
taken  his  own  and  it  was  right.     To  a  friend  she  writes : 


118  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"I  think  much  of  you  with  the  little  treasure  in  your  hands  or  nestling 
on  your  hreast;  and  I  go  at  once  from  earth  to  heaven  and  find  my  own 
little  jewel  which  the  Savior  hath  taken  to  keep  for  me.  I  would  gratefully 
love  to  fold  an  infant  to  my  arms  and  feast  upon  its  opening  attractions,  but 
I  would  not  call  the  departed  one  hack.  I  shall  always  have  a  child  in 
heaven,  and  I  shall  be  oftener  there  because  she  is  one  of  its  angels." 

Mrs.  Adams'  health  was  lessening  every  day,  and  it  was  thought  advis- 
able to  flee  from  the  sea,  and  the  strong  east  winds,  and  so  Mr.  Adams 
accepted  a  call  from  the  people  of  Worcester,  Mass.,  and  removed  there  in 
1852.  Mrs.  Adams,  being  unable  to  attend  to  household  duties,  remained 
with  her  Maiden  friends  until  her  new  home  was  made  comfortable  for  her, 
into  which  she  received  a  most  tender  welcome.  Her  health  for  a  time 
seemed  to  improve,  and,  as  it  was  "impossible  for  her  to  keep  her  light  hidden," 
her  heart  and  brain  entered  rejoicingly  into  her  duties  to  the  new  friends. 
Her  memoir  says  she  found  congenial  spirits  and  good  earnest  workers  in  her 
new  home.     Her  first  communion  in  Worcester  she  describes: 

"Here  for  the  first  time  I  sat  with  stranger  sisters  and  brothers,  away 
from  that  old  sanctuary  where  I  was  christened,  received  into  the  visible 
church,  married,  and  where  my  babes  have  been  dedicated  to  the  service  and 
will  of  the  Father.  Here,  on  new  ground,  amid  new  faces,  with  stranger 
hearts  all  around  me,  away  from  kindred  and  home,  I  drew  near  to  my  God 
and  Savior  for  their  blessings,  and  the  communication  of  the  influence  of  the 
Holy  Spirit." 

But  in  speaking  of  this  home  among  strangers,  to  another  she  says: 

"Our  home  in  this  beautiful  city  is  just  one  of  the  happiest  homes  that 
was  ever  blest  with  sunshine  and  starlight." 

To  a  friend  sorrowing  over  the  death  of  a  child,  she  writes : 

"It  is  not  grateful  in  his  children  to  remember  so  keenly  the  bitter  drops 
in  life's  cup,  while  they  forget  the  many  pleasant  draughts  which  his  hand 
has  presented  to  them.  Therefore,  my  dear  friend,  I  trust  you  will  not  dwell 
too  intently  on  the  single  bitter  event  of  your  child's  death,  but  rather  keep 
in  mind  all  that  you  can  remember  of  bis  happy  youth.  To  be  laid  in  the 
grave  and  sleep  in  icy  coldness  is  not  all — the  release  of  the  invisible  and 
mysterious  soul,  its  destiny  in  unknown  regions — unknown  to  us,  but  under 


MARY  HALL  ADAMS.  119 

control  of  hint  whom  we  trust.  If  God  designed  that  the  death  of  our 
friends  should  cause  us  to  he  enshrouded  in  darkness  and  gloom,  would  he 
have  sent  Jesus  to  reveal  the  resurrection  life  to  us?  The  very  fact  that  our 
relations  and  duties  to  the  living  do  not  stop  when  our  friends  die  may  be 
regarded  as  a  proof  that  we  are  to  leave  the  departed  with  God.  In  heart- 
felt prayer  I  know  you  will  find  consolation,  and  in  every  season  of  prayer 
your  trust  in  God  wiU  increase." 

To  another  she  wiites : 

"When  I  think  of  and  sorrow  for  such  as  you,  a  fearful  idea  of  what  the 
separation  of  wedded  hearts  must  be  comes  hke  a  terrible  shock  upon  me. 
To  bring  the  hand  of  Providence  thus  near  to  my  own  heart  almost  over- 
powers me ;  yet  thousands  are  brought  to  suffer  it.  I  will  pity  all,  and  try  to 
console  such  as  I  may.  To  be  made  perfect  through  suffering  is  a  hard  ex- 
perience for  human  hearts;  but  if,  by  reason  of  it,  we  are  brought  near  unto 
God,  and  become  like  him  whose  life  and  death  and  resurrection  were  wit- 
nesses imto  us  of  God's  truth,  we  may  always  say,  'Thy  will  be  done.'  " 

In  1858  the  church  in  Worcester  enjoyed  a  revival,  and  she  referred  to 
it  in  the  following  manner : 

"We  are  having  a  revival  of  just  such  an  interest  as  it  becomes  Univer- 
salists  to  have.  Oh,  that  the  washing  of  regeneration  and  the  Holy  Spirit 
itself  may  make  it  as  pure  and  sincere  and  effectual  in  the  lives  of  the  disci- 
ples as  the  Lord  himself  could  desire!" 

In  1859  the  health  of  Mrs.  Adams  rapidly  failed;  in  December  she  had 
an  attack  of  pneumonia,  from  which  she  never  fully  recovered.  In  1860  Mr. 
Adams  received  and  accepted  a  call  to  the  Second  society  in  Providence,  R.  I. 
Just  before  going  there  Mrs.  Adams  writes  to  a  friend : 

"I  shall  never  drive  business  any  more;  I  have  turned  that  comer,  and 
left  it  out  of  sight.  Henceforth  I  am  to  aU  intents  and  purposes  a  '  slow 
coach.'  I  draw  comfort,  however,  in  contemplating  the  poor  snail.  He  moves 
slowly,  but  he  moves.  He  accomplishes  his  journey  and  work;  and,  by  the 
blessing  of  God,  I  shall  mine,  in  due  time." 

I  wish  I  had  space  to  quote  more  from  this  lovely  woman's  letters,  who 
seems  born  to  illustrate  the  beauty  of  the  Universalist  faith.  Mrs.  Lathrop 
says  that  "her  letters  were  the  breathings  and  aspirations  of  a  Christ-like 


120  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

heart,  and  the  influence  of  them  guided  many  a  young  person  to  sit  at  Jesus' 
feet."  Dr.  Adams  says  in  the  memoir  of  his  beloved:  "The  invalid  had 
come  to  a  new  home,  but  she  could  form  but  few  acquaintances  in  Provi- 
dence. Her  earthly  sphere  was  narrowing,  while  a  new  and  grander  one 
was  about  to  open  upon  her.  She  was  alive  to  both  realities.  As  the  out- 
ward receded,  the  inward  view  opened.  This  home-land  she  was  nearing 
seemed  to  assume  the  aspect  of  a  heavenly  reality.  On  Thanksgiving  Day 
she  took  her  seat  at  the  table;  '  Once  more,'  were  the  low  but  emphatic  words 
as  the  repast  was  ended. 

"At  her  request  we  assisted  her  to  the  piano,  that  she  might  again  touch 
the  keys ;  and  she  selected  the  hymn, '  I'll  praise  my  Maker  while  I've  breath.' 
In  a  few  days  those  beautiful  eyes,  which  ever  looked  as  '  homes  of  silent 
prayer,'  were  closed  upon  all  earthly  scenes." 


MAEY  ASHTON   LIVERMORE. 

On  Dec.  19,  1821,  in  Boston,  Mass.,  was  born  one  of  the  most  remarka- 
ble of  the  women  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Mary  Ashton  Kice  was  the 
fourth  of  the  six  children  of  Timothy  Eice,  an  old-fashioned  Calvinistic  Bap- 
tist, a  firm,  decided,  rigid  "close  communionist,"  who  instilled  the  stern  religious 
views  he  held  into  the  minds  of  his  children,  brought  up  by  him  in  the  nurt- 
ure and  admonition  of  the  bluest  of  Puritanism.  In  a  sketch  written  in 
18G8,  printed  in  the  "Ladies'  Bepository,"  by  one  whose  opportunities  for 
acquaintance  with  the  subject  of  this  sketch  were  only  surpassed  by  his  rare 
ability  to  perceive  and  describe  her  characteristics,  the  author,  Bev.  J.  S. 
Dennis,  says: 

"As  a  child,  Mrs.  Livermore  was  noted  for  resolution  and  restless  activ- 
ity. She  was  the  champion  of  the  smaller  and  poorer  children,  and  even  of 
the  animals  when  subjected  to  schoolboy  torment.  She  was  foremost  in  stir- 
ring sports,  joining  freely  in  the  more  athletic  games  of  the  boys;  but  proud- 
spirited and  abrupt  if  rudely  or  unfairly  treated.     To  this  taste  for  healthful 


MARY  A.  LIVERMORE. 


MARY  ASHTON  LIVERMORE.  121 

out-door  life,  and  the  freedom  with  which  her  parents  permitted  her  to 
indulge  it  during  the  first  ten  years  of  her  life,  Mrs.  Livermore  probably  owes 
the  remarkable  powers  of  endurance  which  have  carried  her  safely  through 
the  severe  labors  of  her  maturer  years.  It  was  a  help  in  this  direction,  too, 
that  her  school  studies  were  never  tasks.  Where  many  children  plod,  and 
wear  out  body  and  mind  by  protracted  application,  her  wonderful  verbal 
memory  and  quick  perception  made  the  lessons  a  delight,  and  left  her  ample 
time  and  strength  for  the  hoop,  the  ball  and  the  swing. 

"Study  became  a  pleasure — a  passion;  and  aided  by  much  more  than 
common  aptitude,  she  soon  stood  among  the  first  scholars  of  the  school.  In 
some  of  the  departments  she  had  no  equal.  At  ten  years  of  age  her  compo- 
sitions were  so  much  above  her  years  that  she  was  openly  charged  with  pur- 
loining them.  Claiming  them  as  entirely  her  own,  but  not  being  able  to  con- 
vince the  teacher  that  such  was  the  fact,  it  was  finally  resolved  to  put  her  to 
the  test.  She  was  placed  in  one  of  the  recitation-rooms,  with  pencil  and 
paper,  and  required  to  write  a  composition  of  a  given  length.  The  result  was 
so  remarkable  that  still  greater  doubt  was  entertained,  and  she  was  charged 
with  writing  out  what  she  had  committed  to  memory.  At  her  own  request 
she  was  tried  once  more,  and  this  time  a  topic  was  given  her, — a  strange 
topic  for  a  child  of  her  age,— 'Self-government!'  In  a  half-hour  she  re-ap- 
peared, her  paper  covered.  The  composition  was  wonderingly  read,  her  tri- 
umph was  complete,  and  from  painful  distrust  she  was  taken  into  especial 
favor.  Her  productions,  both  prose  and  poetic,  were  passed  about  and  com- 
mended, and  several  of  them  published  before  she  was  twelve  years  of  age. 
Her  facile  pen  was  in  great  demand  in  times  of  public  and  Sabbath- school 
exercises  and  exhibitions,  and  won  for  her  a  class  of  correspondents  whose 
maturer  tastes  and  purposes  tended  powerfully  to  ripen  her  own  mind,  and 
develop  womanly  hues  of  thought  and  feeling,  while  she  was  yet  a  child. 
She  graduated  from  the  Hancock  School  at  fourteen  years  of  age,  taking  a 
silver  medal,  and  soon  after  entered  the  Charlestown  Female  Seminary, 
where  she  remained  three  years,  most  of  the  time  in  the  double  capacity  of 
pupil  and  teacher.  She  taught  Latin,  French  and  Italian,  and  with  such 
success  that  pupils,  parents  and  principal  were  alike  unwilling  that  she  should 
leave. 


122  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"But  a  sad  occurrence,  one  which  changed  the  whole  tone  of  her  life, 
rendered  impossible  her  longer  continuance.  It  was  the  death  of  a  sister, 
under  peculiar  and  painful  circumstances.  We  have  already  said  that  Mr. 
Rice,  her  father,  was  a  sturdy  Calvinist,  and  that  he  labored  faithfully  to  im- 
press his  ideas  upon  the  minds  of  his  children.  With  the  daughter  of  whom 
we  are  writing  he  thoroughly  succeeded.  She  accepted  the  whole  creed,  and 
held  it  with  a  thoroughness  of  conviction  and  a  sharpness  of  apprehension 
that  made  it  the  controlling  force  of  her  life.  At  the  age  of  fifteen  she  was 
'converted,'  and  baptized  by  the  Rev.  R.  H.  Neale,  pastor  of  the  First  Bap- 
tist Church  of  Boston.  Her  'profession'  was  not  an  idle  one,  and  she  ia 
remembered  as  one  of  the  most  devoted  and  active  members  of  the  society, 
church,  prayer-meetings,  Sabbath -school,  mission-school,  Bible,  general  mis- 
sionary, and  all  other  organizations  where  one  so  young  was  admitted  at  all. 
Her  religious  'experience'  was  looked  upon  as  one  of  the  most  marked  and 
promising;  and  some  of  the  more  zealous  were  anxious  that  her  life  should 
be  devoted  to  the  work  of  a  foreign  missionary. 

"It  was  while  she  was  in  this  frame  of  mind  that  she  entered  upon  hei 
duties  as  pupil  and  teacher  in  the  seminary  at  Charlestown.  She  still  lived 
at  home  and  was  under  the  constant  influence  of  parents  and  pastor.  But 
home  had  another  attraction.  For  years  it  had  held  a  saintly  invalid  sister, 
a  pure,  gentle  soul,  made  ethereal  by  suffering;  one  for  whom  earth  had  no 
promise,  to  whom  common  aims,  hopes  and  enjoyments  were  impossible, 
whose  whole  spirit  was  touchingly  tender  and  sweet,  and  the  tones  of  whose 
voice  melted  the  heart  to  sympathy  and  tears.  Her  condition,  so  sharply  in 
contrast  with  that  of  the  young  religious  enthusiast  who  was  daily  at  her  side, 
had  opened  for  her  depths  of  spiritual  need  not  often  seen  by  those  in  health. 
She  had  found  in  her  own  experience  new  interpretations  of  the  soul's  long- 
ings, of  the  life,  words  and  deeds  of  the  Master;  she  had  felt  the  warmth  of 
the  Great  Father's  heart,  and  could  not  accept  the  creed  which  had  obtained 
such  control  over  her  gifted  sister.  In  vain  did  that  sister  explain,  urge, 
plead  and  pray;  in  vain  were  all  the  efforts  of  pastor,  parents  and  friends; 
in  vain  did  they  urge  that  life  is  always  insecure,  and  that  her  hold  upon  it 
was  particularly  frail.  All  was  vain  that  they  tried.  Uninstructcd  in  more 
hopeful  views,  hclil   by  lifelong  illness  from  the  great  world  where  she  might 


MARY   ASHTON    LIVEWVIORE.  128 

have  been  taught  that  God  is  our  Father,  and  heaven  our  home ;  not  know- 
ing, indeed,  but  her  sister's  creed  was  correct,  she  yet  trusted  the  intuitions 
of  her  own  tried  sold  and  stood  aloof.  Of  course  this  steady,  continued 
refusal  to  follow  the  example  of  the  older  sister,  was  set  down  to  the  invalid's 
discredit.  She  was  charged  with  'resisting  the  Spirit,'  'neglecting  the  means 
of  grace,'  with  'hardness  of  heart,'  'perversity  of  the  natural  will'  and  the 
whole  long  catalogue  of  unkind  sayings  which  are  freely  used  on  such  occa- 
sit  ns.  They  seemed  to  have  no  effect  upon  the  one  for  whom  they  were  in- 
tended, but  upon  the  'converted'  sister,  who  had  so  entirely  accepted  the  creed 
of  her  father,  these  harsh  aspersions  had  the  force  of  terrible  fact.  And  they 
were  all  the  more  dreadful  because  she  thought  them  really  applicable  to  that 
deijr  one  whom  she  knew  to  be  so  pure  in  thought,  so  gentle  and  kindly  in 
spirit,  so  confiding  in  her  Savior,  and  so  trustful  and  reverent  toward  her 
Maker;  all  this — but  of  what  avail  since  she  was  still  unconverted? 

"Rarely  have  sisters  loved  each  other  more.  In  their  very  differences 
was  the  sweet  cement  which  held  them  like  the  halves  of  one  heart.  Into 
the  fliidst  of  aU  those  years  of  suffering,  into  that  sick-room  that  had  so  little 
brightness  of  its  own,  had  come  the  progress,  promise  and  triumph  of  the  sis- 
ter to  whom  nature  and  kindly  opportunities  were  so  lavish ;  and  no  friend 
rejoiced  \vith  more  unselfish  gladness  than  did  the  invalid  to  whom  all  such 
progress  was  denied.  And  no  one  wondered  over  the  patient  endurance,  the 
disarmed  suffering,  the  gentle  unconsciousness  of  deprivation,  which  were  so 
constant  jq  the  sick-room,  more  than  did  the  sister  whose  own  experience  had 
been  so  bright.  And  all  the  more  wonderful  these  things  appeared  in  the  light, 
or  rather  shadow,  of  that  conviction  that  the  idolized  invalid  was  still  an 
alien  from  the  kingdom  of  grace  and  truth.  So  angelic  now,  what  would 
she  not  be  if  reconciled  to  her  Savior?  And — oh,  horror  too  frightful  for 
thought!— if  she  were  to  die  in  this  condition,  and  all  that  purity,  sweetness 
and  love  bo  thrown  into  the  company  of  fiends !  Prayers,  appeals  and  tear- 
ful beseechings  were  redoubled. 

"Thus  the  three  years  passed  during  which  the  religious  enthusiast  was 
pupil  and  teacher  at  the  seminary  in  Charlestown;  and  thus  many  more 
might   have  passed  in  saintly,  unselfish  interest  on  the  one  hand,  in  tearful, 


124  OUE   WOMAN    WOBKEES. 

prayerful  anxiety  on  the  other  —  in  the  sweetest  and  freest  commingling  of 
the  hearts  of  hoth. 

"But  the  blow  fell.  The  gentle  invalid  died,  died  suddenly,  died  as  she 
had  lived — 'unconverted.'  Taken  without  premonition,  in  violent  convul- 
sions, she  lived  hut  a  few  hours,  and  was  wholly  unconscious  to  the  last. 
She  had  so  endeared  herself  to  all,  that  her  death,  under  any  circumstances, 
would  have  been  more  than  ordinarily  painful.  But  to  die  as  she  did,  'un- 
reconciled;' to  go  into  the  grave  among  the  'finally  impenitent;'  to  be  lost, 
endlessly,  hopelessly  cast  out  from  God,  was  overwhelming.  The  blank 
despair  that  rested  upon  every  face  and  froze  every  heart  was  pitiable  to 
behold. 

"To  no  one,  however,  did  it  come  with  such  horror  as  to  the  bereaved 
sister.  Keason  was  almost  dethroned.  The  school  was  abandoned;  books, 
society,  friends,  all  life's  duties  and  life  itself  were  loathed.  The  one  horrid 
picture  filled  the  whole  mind.  Others,  with  less  love  for  the  lost  one,  or  with 
weaker  hold  upon  the  old  faith,  could  not  understand  her  agony,  and  chided 
her  want  of  acquiescence  in  the  will  of  heaven ;  her  father  and  pastor  explained 
and  prayed;  her  mother  wept  and  soothed.  But  all  in  vain.  The  early 
instruction  had  been  too  thorough;  the  cruel  creed  was  held  too  literally;  the 
terrible  situation  was  seen  too  vividly;  the  hopelessness  was  too  certain.  The 
crushed  and  tortured  heart  could  not  stand  against  the  sharp,  thorough  con- 
victions of  the  mind,  and  absolute  insanity  seemed  inevitable. 

"But  a  strange  relief  came;  came  not  from  truth,  for  the  frightful  dream 
was  still  thought  a  reality;  not  from  reconciliation — that  was  impossible.  It 
came  from  open  rebellion  against  heaven;  from  a  bitter  sense  of  God's  injus- 
tice. The  whole  Calvinistic  statement  of  the  divine  nature,  decrees  and 
providence,  was  still  held  to  be  correct;  the  Bible  was  still  thought  to  teach 
the  same  old  doctrines;  no  doubt  upon  any  of  these  subjects  had  arisen.  But 
such  a  God,  such  decrees,  such  a  providence,  such  a  Bible,  such  treatment  of 
human  beings,  had  grown  repugnant  to  her  sense  of  right,  and  were  turned 
from  with  open  and  pronounced  contempt.  She  was  aware  of  the  perils  she 
was  encountering;  the  smokes  of  the  'unending  torment'  rose  directly  in  her 
path;  still  she  could  not,  would  not  turn.  The  kind  friends  who  strove  to 
bring  her  relief,  and  warned  her  of   the  danger  of  so  faulting  heaven,  found 


MAEY    ASHTON    LIVERMORE.  125 

her  ready  to  meet  all  the  consequences.  She  told  them  she  preferred  to  be 
in  hell  with  that  pure,  saintly  sister,  than  be  in  heaven  with  such  a  God. 

"After  fairing  with  everything  else,  it  was  resolved  to  try  a  change  of 
scene  for  her  relief.  And  as  home,  which  tiU  now  had  been  the  dearest  spot 
of  earth,  had  become  the  focus  of  cruel  association,  and  as  all  the  well- 
meant  efforts  of  her  friends,  and  even  the  tears  of  parents  ami  prayersof  her 
kind-hearted  pastor,  had  become  repulsive,  and  as  she  long<  d  to  escape  some- 
where— so  longed  that  death  would  have  been  sought  had  it  meant  annihila- 
tion -she  was  more  than  willing  for  them  to  send  her  wherever  they  wished. 
She  only  asked  that  the  spot  should  be  remote  from  familiar  persons  and 
scenes,  and  where  she  might  have  plenty  of  hard,  absorbing  work. 

"Accordingly,  arrangements  were  made,  and  she  removed  to  a  lonely 
plantation  in  southern  Virginia,  and  assumed  the  care  and  instruction  of  a 
group  of  children.  The  position  she  occupied  was  a  peculiar  one.  The  fam- 
ily was  opulent,  cidtivated  and  influential ;  had  accepted  her  services  as  gov- 
erness for  their  children  with  particular  reference  to  the  religious  influence 
she  would  have  with  them,  and  expressly  enjoined  a  strict  observance  of 
daily  devotional  exercises.  And  yet  it  was  a  skeptical  family;  the  father  was 
almost  an  atheist.  But  so  little  comfort  and  strength  had  any  of  them  found 
among  iheir  doubts,  that  they  resolved  to  have  their  children  reared  in  the 
full  acceptance  of  the  Christian  faith. 

"Repugnant  as  her  old  convictions  had  become,  yet  still  holding  them  to 
be  correct,  the  distracted,  despairing  governess  accepted  and  discharged  her 
ditties  in  good  faith.  Nothing  could  have  been  more  fortunate  for  her,  at  this 
time,  than  it  was  to  be  brought  in  daily  contact  with  such  skeptics  as  these: 
persons  of  more  than  ordinary  intelligence,  of  culture  and  wide  reading,  with 
a  library  stored  with  skeptical  works,  close  and  shrewd  in  the  doubter's 
defenses,  and  yet  turning  from  all  with  a  sad  sense  of  want  ami  weariness, 
which  they  could  not  bear  to  transmit  to  their  children.  Here,  then,  she  saw 
the  end  of  that  bitter,  distrusting  tendency  which  had  already  begun  in  her 
own  mind;  this,  and  only  this,  would  be  found  in  that  direction.  She  read 
and  re-read  every  skeptical  work  in  the  house.  But  they  brought  no  relief, 
produced  no  permanent  conviction,  and  left  her  old  faith  substantially  un- 
touched.    Two  years  passed  away,  and  her  heart  grew  colder,  harder;  God 


126  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

and  heaven  were  as  unattractive  as  ever.  But  she  had  matured;  had  learned 
to  mask  her  trouble;  had  evoked  a  superficial  quiet;  coidd  smile  and  be  gay, 
notwithstanding  memory  all  the  while  burnt  like  a  cancer.  Feeling  at  last 
that  she  could  hide  her  misery  sufficiently  to  confront  old  scenes  and  old 
friends  with  calmness,  she  came  North  and  took  charge  of  a  school  in  the 
town  of  Dnxbury.  Here  she  found  the  help  which  lifted  the  load  which  had 
been  pressing  upon  her  heart  more  and  more  heavily. 

"One  Sunday  evening,  by  invitation  of  a  friend,  but  not  willingly,  she 
attended  a  Universalist  meeting.  Through  her  girlhood  she  had  been  taught 
to  believe  and  expect  evil  and  only  evil  from  such  persons  as  Ballou  and 
Whittemore ;  and  she  neither  knew  nor  cared  to  know  anything  about  the 
sentiments  which  these  men  advocated.  Everywhere  she  heard  them  spoken 
against,  and  '  what  everybody  said  must  be  true.'  Now,  for  the  first  time,  she 
was  to  hear  one  of  the  order  speak.  Her  expectations  were  not  high — the 
preacher  was  young ;  his  topic  was  not  especially  adapted  to  her  needs.  Yet 
it  opened  a  new  era  in  her  existence.  It  raised  the  query  whether  she 
had  not  been  misreading  the  Bible ;  whether  God's  character,  decrees,  and 
providence  had  not  been  misunderstood  ;  whether  the  Savior's  teaching 
and  mission  had  not  been  misrepresented,  whether  human  nature  had  not 
been  maligned,  and  human  destiny  horribly  mangled,  in  the  cruel  en- 
ginery of  her  early  creed.  As  soon  as  the  services  closed  she  pressed 
forward  and  asked  the  clergyman  for  his  sermon,  that  she  might  examine  it 
more  critically;  and  read  it  thrice  before  retiring,  sought  its  author  as  soon 
as  her  school  was  over  the  next  day,  and  asked  him  to  loan  her  any  book 
which  taught  the  same  sentiments.  "With  admirable  judgment  he  se- 
lected for  her  '  Williamson's  Exposition  of  Universalism.'  It  proved  for  her 
both  light  and  life.  It  blotted  out  that  lurid  picture  of  hell  which  had  so 
long  filled  the  whole  foreground  of  her  thoughts;  it  tenderly  took  tbat  lost 
sister  from  unutterable  woe,  and  placed  her  in  the  great  home;  it  swept 
aside  the  clouds  which  had  obscured  the  Creator  and  all  his  works,  and  re- 
vealed the  infinite  Father.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  book  was  inspired; 
and,  fearing  that  she  might  not  be  able  to  get  another  like  it,  she  copied  it 
from  beginning  to  end.  Returning  this  work,  she  received  next  '  Skinner's 
Sermons,'  and  these,  too,  she  copied.     The  man n scripts  now  lie  before  me, 


MART    ASHTON    LIVERMORE.  1 27 

a  monument  of  her  anxiety  to  escape  from  night  to  day,  from  agony  to 
peace.  Dreading  error,  she  undertook  the  task  of  learning  Greek,  and  pur- 
sued it  until  she  had  read  the  New  Testament.  But,  gaining  access  to  those 
ahle  works  in  which  all  controverted  points  are  critically  treated,  she  turned 
to  them  as  more  exhaustive  and  satisfactory.  Thus  the  months  went  by, 
and  her  faith  grew  clearer  and  firmer. 

"The  help  she  had  received  in  this  direction  from  the  young  clergyman 
already  referred  to,  had  been  constant,  wise  and  delicate.  Such  anxiety  on 
her  part  to  learn,  and  such  willingness  on  his  part  to  teach,  naturally  brought 
them  a  great  deal  together,  and  so  it  came  about  that  she  became  Mrs.  D. 
P.  Livermore." 

After  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Livermore  resided  as  "minister's  wife*"  in  Stafford, 
Conn.,  Maiden  and  Weymouth,  Mass.,  Auburn,  N.  Y.,  and  Quincy,  111. 
Active,  untiring,  efficient,  during  these  years  she  was  the  model  housekeeper 
of  a  hospitable  home,  a  courageous  advocate  of  whatever  her  clear  mind  per- 
ceived to  be  right  and  true,  and  a  warm-hearted  and  indefatigable  friend  of 
the  sick  and  needy.  At  the  same  time  the  productions  of  her  pen  appeared 
in  the  "Rose  of  Sharon,"  "Lily  of  the  Valley,"  "Ladies'  Repository,"  "Trumpet," 
"Christian  Freeman,"  "Christian's  Ambassador,"  and  "Gospel  Banner."  In 
May,  1858,  Mr.  Livermore  became  proprietor  and  editor  of  the  New  Cove- 
nant, the  organ  of  our  church  in  the  Northwest,  which  paper  he  continued  to 
conduct  until  May,  1869,  when  he  was  succeeded  by  Rev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  D.D., 
the  present  (1881)  editor,  who  says:  "During  eleven  years,  Mr.  Livermore 
evinced  a  superior  business  ability,  a  rare  energy,  great  editorial  skill,  and  a 
character  for  probity  and  consecration  to  the  responsible  duties  of  his  position, 
seldom  equaled,  never  surpassed.  The  Universalist  denomination  owes  him 
a  debt  of  gratitude  for  services  as  great  as  those  that  have  been  performed 
by  any  one  man  during  the  same  length  of  time,  but  even  his  tireless  efforts 
would  have  been  less  successful  had  they  not  been  supplemented  by  the  great 
abilities  and  wonderful  capacity  for  work,  possessed  by  his  gifted  belpmeet. 
When  he  was  Hying  on  the  wings  of  steam  to  all  parts  of  the  West,  in  the  in- 
terest of  the  paper  and  the  great  cause  it  represented,  she  was  as  competent 
'ti  business,  as  full  of  tact  in  all  the  details  of  management,  as  watchful  ami 
industrious  in  the  thousand-and-one  drudgeries  of  a  pewspaper  office,  as  though 


128  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

she  had  no  other  task,  and  at  the  same  time  her  facile  pen  was  in  motion  early 
and  late,  moving  through  all  the  gamut  of  topics,  'from  grave  to  gay,  from  lively 
to  severe.'  It  would  be  difficult  to  find  two  men  capable  of  performing  the 
amount  of  labor  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Livermore  wrought  during  those  busy 
and  useful  years." 

For  many  years  her  productions  appeared  every  month  in  the  "  Repository ; " 
the  most  life-like  stories,  sketches  and  poems  of  a  high  order.  For  eighteen 
years  her  articles  adorned  the  "Rose  of  Sharon."  She  edited  the  "Lily  of 
the  Valley"  three  years,  sometimes  furnishing  a  third  of  its  contents  under 
various  signatures.  A  series  of  war  sketches,  running  through  a  year  of  the 
"Repository,"  would  make  a  choice  volume.  Indeed,  J.  T.  Fields  asked  to 
publish  them  in  book  form,  but  the  Universalist  Publishing  House  at  that 
time  intending  to  put  them  out  with  their  imprint,  objected;  a  work,  I  re- 
gret to  say,  never  done.  Of  the  self-sacrificing  nature  of  Mrs.  Livermore's 
work  for  the  denomination  the  reader  can  judge,  when  it  is  stated  by  herself: 
"I  can  not  remember  that  I  was  ever  paid  a  cent  in  money — only  books,  an- 
nuals, sermons,  etc. — for  any  literary  work  I  have  done  for  the  Universalist 
denomination."  Two  volumes  of  her  stories  have  been  published,  but  sev- 
eral most  readable  volumes  might  be  made  from  her  scattered  productions. 

At  the  present  time  Mrs.  Livermore  is  President  of  the  "Massachusetts 
"Woman's  Temperance  Union,"  an  officer  of  the  "Woman's  Educational  and 
Industrial  Union,"  "  Woman's  Congress;"  is  Trustee  of  a  Medical  College 
in  Boston,  admitting  Women;  and  she  preaches  in  some  pulpit  during  the 
Sundays  of  about  six  months  of  the  year. 

In  Europe,  where  Mrs.  Livermore  has  passed  her  vacations  two  Summers, 
she  is  very  popular.  In  1880  she  was  absent  nearly  six  months,  and  lectured 
repeatedly  in  London  and  thereabouts  in  the  vicinity.  She  scarcely  took  a 
meal  at  a  hotel  for  three  or  four  weeks,  because  continually  invited  out. 
She  saw  and  made  personal  acquaintance  of  people  eminent  in  reform,  in 
liberal  religion,  in  politics,  among  workers  for  women,  temperance  people, 
etc.  the  Martineaus,  Plights,  Taylors,  Conways,  McLarens,  etc.  She 
preached  in  London  several  times,  visited  Rome,  Pompeii,  Naples,  Florence, 
Genoa,  Venice,  Milan,  Heidelberg,  Constance,  Pranld'ort-on-tbe-Main,  Berlin, 


MARY    A.SHTON    LIVERMORE.  12<J 

Brussels,  Amsterdam,  Antwerp,  Paris,  Lyons,  Avignon,  Geneva,  Rouen, 
Switzerland,  etc. 

In  addition  to  the  herculean   labors  of  the  newspapers,  monthlies  and 

annuals,  while  in  Chicago  Mrs.  Livermore  was  able  to  officiate  as  a  hard- 
working member  of  the  Board  of  Directors  of  the  Chicago  "Home  for  the 
Friendless,"  and  to  he  diligent  in  the  Bible-class  and  Sunday-school  of  the 
Church  of  the  Redeemer,  of  which,  during  her  residence  in  Chicago,  Bevs. 
A.  C.  Barry,  D.D.,  J.  H.  Tuttle,  D.D.,  T.  E.  St.  John,  and  G.  T.  Flanders, 
D.D.,  were  pastors.  For  several  years  she  was  the  moving  spirit  in  the 
Northwestern  Conference,  an  organization  that  accomplished  an  immense 
amount  of  good.  She  had  many  coadjutors,  but  Rev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  D.D., 
says:  "The  work  was  largely  accomplished  by  herself,  through  correspond- 
ence, the  press,  thousands  of  miles  of  travel,  and  eloquent  addresses.  A 
hundred  thousand  dollars  endowment  of  Lombard  University,  the  payment 
of  church  debts,  and  the  general  revival  of  our  cause  to  a  degree  never  known 
before  or  since  in  the  West,  were  the  work  of  this  Conference." 

Her  toil  during  the  war  was  simply  tremendous.  Beyond  any  other 
woman  she  was  active,  energetic,  successful.  Brockett,  in  his  splendid 
book,  "Woman's  Work  in  the  Civil  War,"  devotes  large  space  to  Mrs.  Liver- 
more,  and  says:  "Few  of  the  busy,  active  laborers  in  the  broad  field  of 
woman's  effort  during  the  war  have  been  more  widely  or  favorably  known." 
The  New  Covenant  blazed  with  appeals,  and  in  the  Sanitary  Commission 
she  became  a  conspicuous  leader.  She  was  appointed  agent  of  the  North- 
western branch,  and  she  suggested,  planned  and  earned  to  successfid  termina- 
tion the  great  Chicago  Fair,  which  netted  almost  8100,000,  and  its 
successor,  which  realized  even  more;  about  $1,000,000  in  all.  Mrs.  Liver- 
more  had  nothing  to  do  in  handling  this  great  amount  of  money;  and  was 
in  noway  financially  benefited  for  her  labors;  she  was  only  one  of  the  great 
forces  that  assisted  in  collecting  it.  Her  visits  to  the  army,  to  the  hospitals, 
to  Washington,  to  all  parts  of  the  West,  to  initiate  and  inspire  other  women 
in  the  patriotic  work  demanded  by  the  times,  could  only  he  told  in  a  volume. 
Her  eye  saw  every  need;  and  her  eloquent  tongue  and  equally  eloquent  pen 
told  the  story  in  a  way  to  arouse  all  hearts;  and  volunteers,  nurses,  supplies 


130  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

for  soldiers  and  hospitals  started  up  wherever  she  spoke,   as  Roderic  Dhu's 
soldiers  appeared  at  his  call. 

The  following  is  a  specimen  of  her  treatment  of  the  events  of  the  times. 
The  army  had  long  heen  inactive,  in  the  Winter  of  1861-2.  When  our  gen- 
erals ordered  the  Hutchinson  family  out  of  the  lines,  Mrs.  Livermore  wrote 
in  The  New  Covenant  :  "  While  the  whole  country  has  heen  waiting  in 
breathless  suspense  for  six  months,  each  one  of  which  seemed  an  eternity  to 
the  loyal  people  of  the  North,  for  the  'grand  forward  movement'  of  the  army, 
which  is  to  cut  the  Gordian  knot  of  the  Rebellion,  and  perform  unspeak- 
able prodigies  not  lawful  for  man  to  utter,  a  backward  movement  has  been 
executed  on  the  banks  of  the  Potomac  by  the  valiant  commanders  there 
stationed,  for  which  none  of  us  were  prepared.  No  person,  even  though  his 
imagination  possessed  a  seven-leagued-boot  power  of  travel,  could  have  an- 
ticipated the  last  great  exploit  of  our  generals,  whose  energies  thus  far  have 
been  devoted  to  the  achieving  of  a  'masterly  inactivity.'  The  'forward 
movement'  has  receded,  and  receded  like  the  cup  of  Tantalus,  but  the  back- 
ward movement  came  suddenly  upon  us,  like  a  thief  in  the  night.  The 
Hutchinson  family,  than  whom  no  sweeter  songsters  gladdened  this  sorrow- 
darkened  world,  have  been  singing  in  Washington  to  the  President  and  to 
immense  audiences,  everywhere  giving  unmixed  delight.  Week  before  last 
they  obtained  a  pass  to  the  camps  on  the  other  side  of  the  Potomac,  with 
the  laudable  purpose  of  spending  a  month  among  them,  cheering  the  hearts 
of  the  soldiers,  and  enlivening  the  monotonous  and  barren  camp-life  with 
their  sweet  melody.  But  they  ventured  to  sing  a  patriotic  song  (a  beautiful 
song  of  Whittier's),  which  gave  offence  to  a  few  semi-secessionists  among 
the  officers  of  the  army,  for  which  they  were  severely  reprimanded  by  Gen- 
erals Franklin  and  Kearney,  their  pass  revoked  by  General  McClellan,  and 
they  driven  back  to  Washington.  A  backward  movement  was  ordered  in- 
stanter,  and  no  sooner  ordered  than  executed.  Brave  Franklin!  heroic 
Kearney!  victorious  McClellan!  why  did  you  not  order  a  Te  Deum  on  the 
occasion  of  this  great  victory  over  a  band  of  Vermont  minstrels,  half  of 
whom  were  girls?  How  must  the  hearts  of  the  illustrious  West-Pointers 
have  pit-a-patted    with    joy,  and  dilated  with  triumph,   as   they  saw  the 


MA1JY    ASIIION    LIVERMOEE.  LSI 

Hutchinson  troupe— Asa  B.,  and  Lizzie  C,  little  Dennott  and  Freddy,  naive 
Viola,  melodeon  and  all  -.scampering  back  through  the  mud,  bowed  beneath 
the  weight  of  their  military  displeasure." 

It  seems  incredible  that  one  woman  could  perform  such  herculean  labors, 
but  they  were  oniy  possible  because  of  her  possession  of  an  endurance  that  is 
something  marvelous.  Seldom,  during  the  years  of  the  war,  were  her  hours 
of  labor  fewer  than  eighteen  daily. 

After  relinquishing  the  New  Covenant  Mrs.  Livermore  became  editor  of 
a  paper  devoted  to  the  interests  of  woman  — "The  Agitator;"  and  in  1870  she 
moved  to  Massachusetts,  and  was  for  some  time  connected  with  the  "Wom- 
an's Journal,"  of  which  she  was  editor  with  T.  W.  Higginson,  Julia  Ward 
Howe,  Wm.  Lloyd  Garrison   and  Lucy  Stone. 

During  "Centenary  Year,"  1870,  Mrs.  Livermore  performed  a  valuable 
work  for  our  Woman's  Centenary  Association.  Rev.  I.  M.  Atwood,  D.D., 
the  editor  of  the  "Universalist,"  now  "Christian  Leader,"  truthfully  declared 
that  she  did  more  work,  and  raised  more  money  for  the  Murray  Fund,  than 
any  other  woman,  if  not  more  than  any  man.  Strange  to  say,  though 
she  had  filled  so  many  spheres  with  such  ability  and  success,  it  was  not  until 
she  was  fifty  years  of  age  that  she  found  the  position  for  which,  more  than 
for  any  other,  she  was  born,  and  which  neither  she  nor  her  friends  had  ever 
suspected — the  rostrum.  She  had  addressed  public  audiences  during  the 
war,  and  during  her  labors  in  the  Northwestern  Conference,  but  it  was  not 
until  she  occupied  the  lecture  platform  that  she  found  herself  in  the  position 
which  of  all  others  she  was  predestined  to  fill.  By  general  consent  she  is 
denominated  the  "Queen  of  the  Platform."  Rev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  D.D., 
says:  "Her  thoughts  are  logically  arranged,  her  rhetoric  is  of  the  choicest, 
her  imagination  is  vivid,  her  voice  is  womanly  in  all  its  modulations,  her 
manner  is  that  of  a  well-bred  lady,  and  a  halo  of  magnetism  accompanies  her 
in  all  her  public  addresses,  so  that  she  holds  listening  assemblies  as  by 
enchantment.  During  the  last  ten  years  she  has  averaged  one  hundred  and 
fifty  lectures  each  year,  in  all  parts  of  the  land,  from  Maine  to  California. 
Her  services  are  eagerly  sought  in  the  pulpits  of  all  churches,  wherever  she 
may  sojourn  on  Sunday  in  her  lecture  tours,  and  her  discourses  never  fail  to 


132  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

elicit  unanimous  admiration  and  delight."  The  topics  of  her  lectures  are 
such  as  these:  "What  Shall  We  Do  with  Our  Daughters'?"  "Women  of  the 
War;"  "Queen  Elizabeth;"  "Concerning  Husbands;"  "The  Reason  Why;" 
"Superfluous  Women;"  "Harriet  Martineau;"  "The  Moral  Heroism  of  the 
Temperance  Reform;"  "The  Coming  Man;''  "Beyond  the  Sea;"  "Our  Moth- 
erland;" "The  Boy  of  To-Day. "  From  hundreds  of  enthusiastic  criticisms 
of  her  lectures,  I  select  the  following  from  the  Hingham  (Mass.)  "Journal," 
which  gives  my  own  views: 

"Mrs.  Livermore  has  been,  and  is,  a  power  in  the  land  on  the  side  of 
philanthropic  and  reformatory  movements.  A  wife,  a  mother,  a  housekeeper, 
a  writer,  an  agent  for  the  Sanitary  Commission,  a  newspaper  editor,  a  public 
speaker,  a  social  power,  a  great  correspondent,  a  reformer  —these  employ- 
ments, earned  in  each  case  to  excellence,  indicate  somewhat  the  busy,  use- 
ful, intense  way  in  which  she  has  lived.  Her  conspicuous  success,  however, 
is  seen  in  the  department  of  public  speaking.  There  is  not  a  woman  in  the 
republic  who  ranks  beside  her  in  this  respect.  The  secret  of  her  unrivaled 
triumph  lies  not  in  one,  but  in  several  elements  of  oratorical  ability.  She 
never  lays  aside  womanly  dignity  and  grace ;  her  calm  and  attractive  spirit, 
earnest  but  courteous,  always  wins  respect  for  her,  even  among  those  unquali- 
fiedly opposed  to  the  appearance  of  woman  on  the  lecture  platform.  Time 
has  not  turned  her  feelings  acrid.  Those  who  know  her  best  detect  a  ten- 
dency to  the  opposite, — an  increase  of  gentleness  and  kindly  expression. 
Her  aim  is  to  persuade ;  to  rest  her  arguments  on  facts,  on  sound  logic,  on 
common  sense.  Gifted  with  a  fine  physical  organization,  she  maintains  a 
vigorous  brain,  apt  at  illustration,  quick  in  analysis.  Unfettered  by  manu- 
script, she  speaks  eye  to  eye,  face  to  face  with  her  audiences,  and  in  fluent, 
forcible  language  presents  her  theme  with  unflagging  earnestness.  The  lis- 
tener is  impressed  at  once  with  the  conviction  that  this  woman  is  not  speak- 
ing for  display,  for  notoriety,  for  money  only.  Her  talent  of  oratory  she  uses 
as  a  means  to  an  end.  Whether  one  agrees  with  her  or  not,  one  can  not 
despise  her  learning,  or  deride  her  style.  Scarcely  a  preacher  or  political 
speaker  or  lawyer  but  would  give  all  he  has  to  possess  her  facile,  incisive, 
captivating  address." 


MARY  ASHTON  LIVERMORE.  133 

Of  her  sermons  the  following  is  an  average  notice: 

"Mrs.  Livermore  lectured  Sunday  morning  in  the  Church  of  the  Messinh, 
on  the  'Immortal  Life.'  Incidents  illustrating  the  many  points  of  the  dis- 
course ahounded,  and  Mrs.  Livermore  held  her  audience  intent  and  immova- 
ble, only  as  they  were  moved  by  the  touching  pathos  of  her  words  and  her 
own  evidently  sincere  and  heartfelt  earnestness;  and  these  often  bring  even 
strong  men  to  tears." — Montpelier  (Vt.)  Watchman. 

An  accomplished  critic,  in  whose  literary  judgment  I  have  the  utmost 
confidence,  and  upon  whom  I  have  made  frequent  calls,  says 

"Had  Mrs.  Livermore  devoted  herself  exclusively  to  poetry,  she  would 
have  ranked  among  our  best  poets;  had  she  concentrated  her  mind  on  fiction, 
she  would  have  been  a  novelist  of  a  high  order;  as  an  editor  she  has  few 
equals;  but  as  a  pulpit  and  platform  orator  she  is  unrivaled,  and  no  one  can 
survey  her  path  through  the  world  for  the  last  forty  years  without  perceiving 
that  she  has  accomplished  a  wonderful  work.  Her  example  teaches  one  les- 
son to  women,  that  all  should  remember:  A  woman  need  not  'linger  superfluous 
on  the  stage'  because  her  youth  has  fled.  If  she  will  but  elect  to  employ 
whatever  powers  God  has  given  her,  she  will  grow  in  grace  and  general 
power  and  influence  as  her  years  increase.  As  her  mind  develops  and  her 
soul  expands,  they  will  record  their  inscriptions  on  the  face  and  in  the  man- 
ner. Others  will  see  'the  mind,  the  music  breathing  from  the  face,'  and  age 
will  wear  a  dignity,  a  beauty  of  its  own,  not  inferior  to  the  attractions  of 
youth.  Mrs.  Livermore  at  sixty  is  personally  more  attractive  than  at  forty, 
and  has  wrought  more  and  better  work  since  she  was  fifty  than  during  any 
preceding  ten  years  of  her  life.  She  is  somewhat  above  the  ordinary  height 
and  size,  with  a  face  expressive  of  power,  and  yet  not  masculine;  a  pleasant 
mouth,  magnetic,  blue-grey  eye,  a  full  brow  and  a  massive  head.  In  repose 
her  countenance  expresses  thoughtfulness  and  decision,  and  in  conversation 
every  varying  mood  is  indicated  by  her  mobile  features.  As  a  conversational- 
ist she  is  fascinating,  not  only  charming  but  stimulating  her  listener  and 
raconteur  to  unwonted  ease  and  fluency." 

From  the  scattered  waifs,  the  children  of  the  mind  of  this  gifted  woman, 
I  select: 


!34  OUR   WOMAN     WORKERS. 

DREAMS. 

I  dreamed:   life  lay  a  sunlit  path, 

Besprent  with  flowers  of  rainbow  dyes; 
Music  thrilled  all  the  listening  air. 

And  o'er  me  hung  cerulean  skies. 
Soft  breezes  fanned  me  with  their  wings, 

Coolness  came  up  from  crystal  streams. 
Not  fairer  was  the  heaven  of   God 

Than  the  bright  land  of  my  young  dreams. 

But  as  I  gazed,  the  sun  grew  dim, 

Forth  from  the  clouds  the  thunder  broke, 

A  storm  swooped  down  from  out  the  sky- 
Groping  in  darkness,  I  awoke. 

No  more  I  see  a  sunny  way, 

With  flowers  and  greenness  all   o'erspread; 

Rough  and  uneven  is  the  track, 

And  leading  downward  to  the  dead. 

I  dreamed  again:   and  now  came  Hope, 

An  artist  of  divinest  birth, 
And  sketched  the  future  o'er  and  o'er, 

In  colors  all  too  bright  for  earth; 
And  Friendship  bound  me  fast  and  close, 

To  hearts  that  throbbed  against   my  own— 
Ah,  what  if  weary  were  the  way, 

So  now  I  journeyed  not  alone! 

But  from  my  arms  they  fell  away; 

Some  wearied  of  the  love  I  gave. 
And  some,  a-weary  of  the  way, 

Sank  heavily  within  the  grave. 
And  the  dear  artist  of  that  hour, 

His  pictures  shine  on  me  no  more; 
T^ieir  hues  were  faded  long  ago, 

I  see  them  not— that  dream  is  o'erl 

Then  came  the  sweetest  dream  of  all— 

We  two  walked  lovingly  alone, 
When  lo,  the  sound  of  little  feet 

Pattered  along  beside  our  ownl 
I  held  the  child  with  jealous  love— 

The  hunger  of  my  heart  was  stilled— 
"0  God!"  I  cried,  "what,  what  am  I! 

That  thus  with  joy  my  cup  is  filled!" 

"I'll  smooth  for  thee  the  flinty  way," 

I  said,  "it  shall  not  bruise  thy  feet; 
I'll  shield  thee  from  the  tempest's  power, 


MARY  ASHTON  LIVEBMOBE.  185 

Anil  from  the  noon-tide's  torrid  heat." 
But   while   I    spake,   athwart    my   path 

A  pair  of  strong  white  pinions  gleamed:— 
Once  more  we  two  walked  on  alone— 

M  \    child   was  not— no  more  I   dreamed. 
Now  do  I  dream?      Afar,   afar, 

There  lies  a  green  and  sunny  shore; 
A  glory  bathes  that  land  and   sky, 

Transcending  all  I  saw  of  yore. 
Sometimes  the  mists  that  hang  between 

A  moment  lift   their  fleecy  veil, 
And  then  I  see  that  land  of  light. 

By  which  the  noon-day  waxeth  pale. 

And  there   the   friends   who  from   my  arms 

Fell  into  those  of  death  away, 
Await  my  coming  o'er  the  flood, 

Outlooking  for  me  night  and  day. 
And  there— 0  heart,  forget  thy   pain, 

O  eyes,  forbear  your  weeping  now— 
For  there  I  see  my  radiant  child, 

With  bliss  anil  beauty  on  her  brow. 

Nay,  'tis  no  dream,  what  now  I  see. 

That  will  my  unsealed  eye-lids   mock! 
Unfading  are  the  coming  joys, 

Which  the  hereafter  will  unlock. 
O  night  of  death!   when  I  shall  sleep 

A  dreamless  sleep,  to  wake  new-born, 
Draw  near,  and  open  on  my  sight 

The  effulgence  of  that  endless  morn! 


JESUS 


"I  have  trodden  the  wine-press  alone,  and  of  the  people  there  was  none  with  me. 
"He  was  despised  and  rejected  of  men,  and  we  hid,  as  it  were,  our  faces  from  him. 
"Christ  also  suffered  for  us,  leaving  us  an  example." 

Angels  trod  the  starry  arches  vaulted  o'er  the  slumbering  world, 
With  their  shining  robes  up-gathered,  and  their  stainless  pinions  furled, 
Thrilling  with  their  wond'rous  music   all   the  hushed   and   listening  air, 
And  the  blissful  tidings  chanting,    "Lo,  the  Son  of  God  is  here." 

Where  the  waters  stole  up  lightly,  as  if  seeking  place  to  rest, 
Jesus  stood  with  eyes  uplifted,  and  with  clasped  hands  on  his  breast; 
There  the  unseen  Father  owned  him.  as  he  rose  above  the  stream. 
And  with  heavenly   light   baptized   him.   in   one  full  and  softened   beam. 


136  OUE     WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

Radiant  wings,  whose  silvery  glancings  made  the  earth  and  sky  grow  bright. 
Lighted  up  the  desert's  darkness,  changing  to  a  noon  its  night. 
When  the  tempter  quailed  before  him— the  majestic  sent  of  God, 
And  the  bright  Shekinah's  glory  on  the  victor's  brow   abode. 

Yet  when  rang  throughout  Judea  the  heraldic  prophet's  voice, 
Foaling  to  the  noble's  palace,  rising  o'er  the  city's  noise, 
When  he  came,  whose  call  could  summon  shining  legions  from  on  high, 
Pharisaic  priests  and  Levites  passed  him  with  a  scorning  eye. 

Pure  as  God,  whose  suffrage  chose  him  to  illume  the  world  with  truth, 
Holy  as  the  new-born  angel,  when  in  heaven  begins  its  youth, 
With  a  heart  attuned  so  finely,   all  its  chords  so  nicely  strung, 
That  the  faintest  touch  of  sorrow  thence  a  deep  compassion  wrung; 

With  a  soul  where  every  virtue  as  in  constellation  beamed. 

With  a  love  that,  ever  gushing,  into  all  his  actions  streamed, 

Jesus  gauged  the  dark  abysses  where  abode  the  foulest  sin, 

And  he  fathomed  depths  the  lowest,  where  the  sinning  had  plunged  in. 

Oh,  how  deep  his  heart's  affection,  as  he  spoke  those  words  of  peace, 
Which  brought  weakness  to  his  shelter,  and   the  mourner's  tears  could  cease 
Oh,  how  strong,  and  how  o'ermastering,  was  his  bosom's  secret  grief, 
When  he  saw  the  world  in  madness,  thrusting  back  its  sole  relief! 

To  his  heart  of  God-like  largeness  none  an  answering  throb  could  send, 
None  the  sympathy  could  render  he  was  ever  prompt  to  lend; 
Man  could  follow  in  his  pathway,  in  his  tracks  of  joy  and  life, 
But  alone  he  chased  the  darkness,  and  fought  out  the  fearful  strife. 

Midnight  steeped  the  crested  mountain,  and  the  stars  looked  sadly  down, 
When  the  man  of  vast  divineness  sought  Gethsemane  alone; 
There,  with  awe,  the  dark  leaves  shivered,  and  stood  still  the  swaying  air, 
Witnessing  his  mighty  sorrow,  listing  to  his  anguished  prayer. 

There  with  grief  alone  he  wrestled;  lonely,  bore  that  weight  of  woe, 
Reeling  underneath  an  anguish  which  no  lesser  soul  could  know, 
Crimsoned  with  the  oozing  blood-drops,  from  his  o'erfraught  heart  distilled. 
Yet  not  swerving  from  the  trial  which  the  Infinite  had  willed. 

And  while  groaned  the  earth,  in  horror,  shuddering  to  its  very  core, 
While  the  sun  grew  pale,  and   fainting,  could  behold  the  deed  no  more, 
While    the   harps  above   were  tuneless,  strewn  along  the  floor  of  heaven, 
Wondering  at  the  cup  of  anguish  which  to  Jesus,  lips  was   given, 

Thos<-   he   loved   with   tender  yearning,  whom  he  fondly  chose  his  own, 
Who  exhaled  his  best  affections,  left  him   e'en  to  die  alone; 
Be,   the    mate   Of  tallest  angels,    who   might  wear  the   crown  of  God, 
Was  by  all  he  loved,  forsaken,  and  alone  the  grave  he  trod. 


MAIIY   ASHTON    LIVERMORE.  137 

What  if,  then,   ye  lofty   spirits,  ye  of  high  and  holy  heart, 

Wlm  to  be  the  world's  Messiahs  arc  by  nature  set  apart— 

What  if,  lone,  betrayed,  forsaken,  ye  must  pass  through  mortal  life? 

Jesus  trod  that  path  before  you,  God-upholden  in  the  strife. 


Mrs.  Livermore  is  author  of  one  of  our  best  hymns : 

Jesus,  what   precepl   is  like  thine, 

"Forgive  as  ye  would  be  forgiven!" 
If  heeded,  oh,  what   power  divine 

Would   then  transform   our  earth  to  heaven. 

Not   by  the   harsh  or  scornful  word 

Should  we  our  brother  seek  to  gain. 

Not  by  the  prison  or  the  sword, 

The  shackle  or  the  clanking  chain. 

But  from  our  spirits  there  must  flow 
A  love  that  will  his  wrong  outweigh. 

Our  lips  must   only   blessings  know. 
And  wrath  and  sin  shall  die  away. 


THE    SLAVE    TRAGEDY    AT    CINCINNATI.* 

Bright  the  Sabbath  sun  is  shining  through  the  clear  and  frosty  air, 
Solemnly  the  bells  arc  calling  to  the  lease  of  praise  and  prayer; 

And   with    hearts   devout   and   holy,   thither   many    wend   their   way, 
To  renew   to   God   their   pledges— but    I   can   not  go  to-day, 

For  my  soul  is  sick  and  saddened  with  that  fearful  tale  of  woe, 
Which   has  blanched  the  cheeks  of  mothers  to  the  whiten,---,  of  the  snow; 
And  my  thoughts  are  wandering  ever  where  the   prison  walls  surround 
The  parents  and  their  children,  in  hopeless  bondage  bound. 


'"Margaret  Garner,  a  slave  mother,  with,  five  slave  children,  had  escaped  from 
slavery,  had  reached  Cincinnati,  was  arrested,  and  under  the  "Fugitive  slave  Law" 
was    by    the   l".    S.    Commissioner    remanded    hack    to    the    custody    of   her    i 

who   was   waiting    in     th irtroom,    with    a    strong  force.      As    soon    as    she   heard 

the  decision,  she  caught  up  a  knife,  lying  on  the  table,  and  stabbed  her  baby. 
with  intent  to  kill  all  the  children.  All  the:  same  was  she  remande  i  back  into 
slavery.  This  was  the  cause  of  the  poem.  The  last  stanza  is  prophetic.  It  was 
written  Ave   years  before  the   war. 

10 


138  °UR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Oh    thou  mother,  maddened,  frenzied,  when  the  hunter's  toils  ensnared 
Thee  and  thy  brood  of  nestlings,  till  thy  anguished  spirit  dared 
Send  to  God,  uncalled,  one  darling  life  that  'round  thine  own  did  twine- 
Worthy  of  a  Spartan  mother  was  that  fearful  deed  of  thine! 

Worthy  of  the  Roman  father,  who  sheathed  deep  his  flashing  knife 
In  the  bosom  of  Virginia,  in  the  current  of  her  life! 
Who,  rather  than  his  beauteous  child  should  live  a  tyrant's  slave, 
Opened  the  way  to  freedom  through  the  portals  of  the  grave! 

Well  I  know  no  stronger  yearning  than  a  mother's  love  can  be— 
I  could  do  and  dare  forever  for  the  babe  upon  my  knee! 
And  I  feel  no  deeper  sorrow  could  the  light  of  life  eclipse, 
Than  to  see  death's  shadows  settle  on  its  brow  and   faded  lips. 

•Yet,  (oh,  God    of  heaven,  forgive  me!)  baby  sitting  on  my  knee, 
I  could  close  thy  blue  eyes  calmly,  smiling  now  so  sweet  on  me! 
Ay,  my  hand  could  ope  the  casket,  and  thy  precious  soul  set  free; 
Better  for  thee  death   and  heaven,  than  a  life  of  slavery! 

And  before  the  Judge  Eternal,  this  should  be  my  anguished  plea: 
"They  would  rob  my  child  of  manhood;  so,  uncalled,  I  sent  it  thee! 
Hope   and   Love  and  Joy  and  Knowledge   and   her  every  right  they  crave; 
So  I  gave  her  what  they  left  her— her  inheritance— the  grave!" 

And  the  Lord  would  judge  between  us,   oh  ye  men  of  stony  heart! 
Even  'gainst  the  strong  and  mighty,   for  the   weak  he   taketh  part; 
Think   ye   hunters  of  his  children    bowed  beneath  your  iron  rod, 
With  your  heel  upon  their  heart-pulse,  this  ye  do  unto  your  God? 

But  the  day  of  vengeance  eometh— he  will  set  his  people  free. 
Though  he  lead  them,  like  his  Israel,  through  a  red  and  bloody  sea; 
For  the  tears  and  gore  of  bondmen,  staining  deep  the  frighted  sod, 
And  the  wailing  cry  of  millions  riseth  daily  up  to  God! 


PERSONAL    RECOLLECTIONS    OF    PRESIDENT    LINCOLN. 

"Nature  is  not  lavish  of  great  men,  but  distributes  them  charily  through 
the  centuries.  Often  she  evolves  them  from  the  obscurity  where  they  have 
slowly  crystallized  into  force  and  clearness,  only  when  the  crises  appear  for 
whose  mastership  they  were  ordained.  Like  the  stars  of  evening  they  spring 
not  into  instantaneous  being,  but  only  appear  after  they  have  been  slowly 
formed  in  dimness  and  mistiness,  after  long  revolving,  condensing  and  gath- 
ering, one  by  one,  pale  rays  of  light.  Then  they  stand  out,  coruscating  on 
the  brow  of  night,  like  God's  signets,  ever  after  to  be  the  guide  and  admira- 
tion of  men. 


MARY    ASHTON    LIVERMORE.  Igg 

"It  was  thus  with  our  late  heloved  President,  whose  life  was  crowned 
with  the  glory  of  martyrdom.  The  discipline  of  poverty,  and  hard  wrestling 
with  Nature  in  the  blended  timber  and  prairie  country  of  the  unsubdued 
"West,  matured  him  to  a  late  hut  sturdy  manhood.  The  softening  culture  of 
the  schools  was  held  aloof  from  him.  The  civic  honors,  for  which  in  early 
life  he  struggled,  eluded  his  pursuit,  and  crowned  his  rival.  The  golden 
stream  of  Pactolus  flowed  far  away  from  his  feet.  And  so  Nature  and  cir- 
cumstance shaped  him  vigorous,  cool-headed,  warm-hearted,  self-poised, 
strong-handed.  A  childlike  simplicity  remained  in  him  that  ever  proved 
more  than  a  match  for  the  suhtleties  of  political  tricksters.  Transcendent 
honesty  and  clear-sighted  goodness  stood  him  instead  of  genius  and  inspira- 
tion. For  half  a  century  his  manhood  was  huilt  up  hy  gradual  accretions  of 
power,  strength  and  wisdom,  and  the  qualities  which  inspire  trust,  and  then 
the  great  epoch  hurst  upon  us,  for  which  Providence  had  heen  shaping  him. 

"Our  country  was  tossed  in  the  agonies  of  disruption,  and  the  fires  of  a 
gigantic  civil  war  were  smouldering  in  her  bosom,  when  Mr.  Lincoln  took  the 
reins  of  government  in  his  hand.  Through  many  a  Gethsemane  of  agony, 
up  many  a  Calvary  of  blood,  he  led  the  nation  steadily,  on  its  sanguinary  way 
to  freedom,  till  the  goal  was  won.  Then  the  Lord  took  him.  One  moment 
he  was  charged  with  a  nation's  fate — the  next,  a  shock — a  dim,  blank  pause — 
and  he  beheld  the  King  in  his  glory.  One  moment  our  noisy  and  capricious 
applause  surged  around  him — the  next,  he  heard  but  the  One  Voice,  'Well 
done,  good  and  faithful  servant!'  The  nation  sobbed  its  farewell  to  him, 
but  in  its  yearning  love  it  still  reaches  out  into  the  immeasurable  heaven  of 
heavens  after  him.  It  hoards  its  memories  of  him  as  priceless  wealth.  It 
exhumes  from  the  past  the  minutiae  of  his  daily  life,  and  laughs  afresh  at  his 
rare  humor,  and  weeps  anew  over  the  pathos  and  tragedy  crowded  into  his 
history.  Because  it  is  a  topic  of  which  Americans  never  weary,  and  because 
I  held  in  my  heart  of  hearts  with  jealous  affection  my  personal  memories  of 
this  good,  great  man,  I  have  thought  to  place  on  record  in  the  'Repository' 
some  brief  personal  reminiscences  of  President  Lincoln,  which  may  not  be 
wholly  devoid  of  interest  to  those  who  loved  him. 

"I  well  remember  when  I  first  heard  of  Mr.  Lincoln,  and  the  impression 
made  upon  me  by  the  first  words  of  his  which  ever  nut  my  eye.      It  was   in 


140  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

1858 — just  after  my  removal  into  the  West  from  New  England — when  he  was 
put  forward  in  Illinois  as  a  candidate  for  the  seat  in  the  Senate  Chamber, 
about  to  be  vacated  by  Hon.  Stephen  A.  Douglas,  who  was  himself  a  candi- 
date for  re-election.  The  two  aspirants  for  the  same  position  'stumped'  the 
State,  and  met  in  joint  debate  at  seven  points  of  geographical  importance. 
These  debates  created  the  intensest  interest,  and  everywhere  the  people 
flocked  to  hear  them.  To  this  day,  that  memorable  and  peculiar  discussion 
is  known  in  Illinois  as  the  'battle  of  the  giants.'  One  of  the  localities  where 
these  'giants'  wrestled  in  argument  was  Springfield,  111.,  and  the  first  time 
that  I  ever  heard  of  Mr.  Lincoln  was  in  connection  with  the  joint  debate 
in  that  city.  I  shall  never  forget  how  I  was  impressed  with  his  prophetic 
utterance  in  that  discussion,  which  has  since  been  so  often  quoted:  'A  house 
divided  against  itself  can  not  stand.  I  believe  this  government  can  not 
endure  permanently  half  slave  and  half  free.  I  do  not  expect  the  Union  to 
be  dissolved — I  do  not  expect  the  house  to  fall — but  I  do  expect  it  will  cease 
to  be  divided.  It  will  become  all  one  thing  or  all  the  other.'  He  seemed, 
even  at  that  time,  to  speak  thus  with  lips  touched  with  prophetic  fire.  Mr. 
Lincoln  lost  the  election — Mr.  Douglas  won  it — but  the  former  gathered  to 
himself  the  trust  of  all  haters  of  slavery  and  lovers  of  freedom,  and  prepared 

the  way  for  his  triumphant  elevation  to  a  higher  post  of  honor. 

*******  *  * 

"I  was  in  the  ante-chamber  of  the  President's  room  one  nioming,  wait- 
ing the  exit  of  Secretary  Stanton,  who  was  holding  an  interview  with  Mr. 
Lincoln,  when,  as  my  party  was  under  the  escort  of  a  senator,  we  were  next 
to  enter.  A  member  of  the  Cabinet  takes  precedence  of  all  who  wish  to  enter 
the  presence  of  the  Chief  Magistrate;  a  senator  ranks  next,  and  goes  in  be- 
fore any  inferior  personages;  a  member  of  the  House  is  next  in  order,  while 
persons  unattended  by  any  of  these  officials  take  their  turn  among  those 
desiring  an  audience.  As  we  were  waiting  the  departure  of  the  Secretary  of 
\V;ir,  who  was  making  a  long  visit,  I  looked  around  upon  the  crowd  who  bad 
'.f<it  thus  far  in  their  claims  upon  the  President's  attention.  Standing,  sit- 
ting, walking,  lounging,  talking,  with  hats  on,  and,  generally,  mouths  full  of 
tobacco,  there  were  some  fifty  men  in  attendance,  and  besides  ourselves  only 
one  woman.     She  was  sitting  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  with  her  face  close  to 


MARY  ASHTON  LIVERMORE.  141 

the  wall.  Thinking  she  had  shrunk  into  this  place  and  posture  from  shame- 
facedness  at  being  the  only  woman  among  so  many  men,  I  moved  a  little 
toward  her  to  get  a  peep  at  her  face.  I  was  somewhat  curious  to  look  at  a 
woman  who  feared  to  show  her  face  hefore  any  numher  of  such  men  as  were 
congregated  there.  She  was  poor-looking,  shabbily  but  neatly  dressed,  mid- 
dle-aged, sunburnt  and  careworn.  Her  hands  were  tightly  clenching  a 
handkerchief,  which  she  held  close  against  her  breast,  witli  the  evident  effort 
to  master  the  feeling  that  was  shaking  her  whole  frame,  and  she  was  quietly 
weeping.  I  saw  by  her  manner  that  she  was  in  great  trouble,  and  my  heart 
went  out  to  her  immediately.  Putting  my  arm  over  her  shoulder,  I  stooped 
down,  and  said  as  kindly  as  I  could: 

"  'My  poor  woman,  I  am  afraid  you  are  in  trouble;  can  I  do  anything  to 
comfort  you?' 

"She  turned  a  most  imploring  face  toward  me,  and  clutched  my  hand 
nervously.  'Oh,'  said  she,  'I  am  in  great  trouble.  My  husband  is  to  be  shot, 
and  if  I  can't  get  him  pardoned,  nobody  can  comfort  me.'  A  kindly-appear- 
ing man  stepped  forward,  a  country  neighbor  of  the  poor  woman,  and  told 
her  story.  Her  husband  was  Major  of  an  Illinois  regiment,  and  had  served 
two  years  in  the  army  with  honor  and  fidelity.  His  Colonel,  hke  too  many 
of  the  same  rank,  was  a  hard-drinking  man,  and,  when  intoxicated,  abusive, 
uncontrollable  and  profane.  He  was,  however,  a  good  soldier,  and,  in  the 
main,  popular  with  his  men.  Wlide  under  the  influence  of  liquor  he  had 
come  fiercely  in  collision  with  the  Major,  and  a  most  profane  and  angry  alter- 
cation ensued,  in  presence  of  half  the  regiment.  Foul  epithets  were  hurled 
back  and  forth,  until  the  Colonel  called  the  Major  a  'coward,'  with  numer- 
ous obscene  and  profane  prefixes  which  can  not  be  repeated.  The  Major 
was  a  sober  man,  reticent  and  unpopular,  and  naturally  cool  and  hard  to 
rouse  to  anger.  But  this  stung  him.  'Take  that  back,  Colonel,'  he  de- 
manded fiercely,  drawing  his  revolver,  'or  you're  a  dead  man.'  The  Colonel 
repeated  the  insult  even  more  offensively.  Before  the  by-standers  could 
interfere,  the  Colonel  fell  dead  by  the  Major's  hand.  For  this  he  was  tried, 
convicted,  sentenced  to  be  shot,  and  was  then  lying  in  jail,  in  Memphis, 
awaiting  his  death.  He  had  written  his  wife  a  farewell  letter,  entreating  her 
to  be  reconciled  to  the  event — a  brief  epistle,  which  she  handed  us  to  read. 


142  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

full  of  tenderness  for  her,  and  accusation  against  himself,  and  also  evincing 
great  manliness.  The  Judge-Advocate  had  also  written  her,  urging  her  to 
go  immediately  to  Washington,  and,  in  person,  ask  the  too-forgiving  Presi- 
dent to  commute  her  husband's  sentence  to  imprisonment.  A  sympathetic 
neighbor  had  accompanied  her,  and  they  had  been  then  in  Washington  twen- 
ty-four hours  without  having  seen  the  President,  simply  from  their  modesty, 
and  ignorance  of  the  most  expeditious  method  of  getting  an  audience  with 
him. 

"Our  expressions  of  sympathy  broke  the  poor  woman  completely  down. 
She  coidd  not  stand,  and  sobbed  so  hysterically  that  she  could  not  talk.  She 
had  been  imable  to  eat  or  sleep  since  she  had  heard  of  her  husband's  sen- 
tence, and,  as  her  townsman  expressed  it,  it  seemed  as  if  'she  woidd  be  sent 
borne  in  her  coffin  if  the  President  didn't  take  pity  on  her.'  Senator  Hen- 
derson, of  Missouri,  was  to  introduce  my  friends  and  myself  that  morning  to 
the  notice  of  the  President,  and  we  entreated  that  he  would  also  escort 
this  poor  woman,  and  give  her  an  immediate  opportunity  to  present  her  peti- 
tion. He  gladly  consented.  We  sought  to  aUay  the.  wife's  agitation.  'Now 
you  must  be  calm,'  I  said,  'for  in  a  minute  or  two  you  are  to  see  the  Presi- 
dent, and  it  will  be  best  for  you  to  tell  your  own  story.' 

"  'Won't  you  talk  for  me?'  she  entreated.  'I  am  so  tired  and  worried  I 
can't  think,  and  I  can't  tell  all  his  story.  Do  beg  the  President  not  to  allow 
my  husband  to  be  shot!' 

"We  put  our  arms  about  the  poor  creature  and  pressed  her  to  our  hearts 
as  if  she  had  been  a  sister — for  never,  before  or  since,  have  I  seen  a  woman 
so  pitiable  and  distressed,  or  one  who  so  awoke  my  sympathies.  'Don't  fear,' 
we  said;  'the  President  don't  hang  or  shoot  jieople  wThen  he  ought,  and  he 
certainly  will  spare  your  poor  husband,  when  he  comes  to  hear  all  the  facts.' 
While  her  agitation  was  at  the  highest,  the  door  opened  out  into  the  ante- 
chamber, and  Secretary  Stanton  came  forth,  with  a  huge  budget  of  important- 
looking  documents.  Immediately  Senator  Henderson  ushered  us  into  the 
apartment  the  Secretary  had  vacated,  two  of  us  leading  the  trembling 
wife  between  us  as  if  she  had  been  a  child  learning  to  walk.  The  man  was 
first  introduced,  who  then  led  forward  the  wife  of  the  condemned  Major,  say- 
ing,   'This  woman,   Mr.  President,  will  tell  you  her  story.'     But  instead  of 


MARY    ASHTON    LIVERMORE.  148 

'telling  her  story,'  she  dropped  her  trembling  frame  into  a  chair,  only  half 
alive,  lifting  her  white  face  to  fch<  President's  with  a  beseeching  look  that 
was  more  eloquent  than  any  words,  her  colorless  lips  moving  without  emit- 
ting any  sound.  One  of  us  spoke  quickly  in  her  behalf,  telling  her  story, 
and  urging  her  prayer  with  as  much  earnestness  as.  though  she  and  her  hus- 
band were  the  friends  of  a  lifetime — all  the  while  her  hungry  eyes  being  riveted 
on  the  President's  face,  and  tearless  sobs  shaking  her  frame.  The  chair  she 
sat  in,  touching  mine,  beat  a  tattoo  that  made  me  nervous.  The  President 
was  troubled.  'Oh  dear!'  said  he,  passing  his  hand  over  his  face,  'these 
cases  kill  me.  I  wish  I  did  not  have  to  hear  about  them.  What  shall  I  do? 
You  make  the  laws,'  turning  to  members  of  Congress  in  the  room,  'and  then 
you  come  with  heart-broken  women  and  ask  me  to  set  them  aside.  You 
have  decided  that  if  a  soldier  raises  his  hand  against  his  superior  officer,  as 
this  man  has  done,  he  shall  die.  Then  if  I  leave  the  laws  to  be  executed, 
one  of  these  distressing  scenes  occurs,  which  almost  kills  me.' 

"  Somebody  ventured  the  remark  that  'this  seemed  a  case  where  it  was  safe 
to  incline  to  the  side  of  mercy.' 

"  'I  feel  that  that  is  always  safe,'  replied  the  President,  'and  you  know 
that  I  am  to-day  in  bad  odor  all  over  the  coivntry,  because  I  don't  have  as 
many  persons  put  to  death  as  the  laws  condemn.' 

"The  attendant  of  the  wife  gave  to  him  an  abstract  of  the  case,  which 
had  been  ■  furnished  by  the  Major's  counsel,  and  which  the  President  began 
gloomily  to  run  over.  Now  and  then  he  looked  pityingly  at  the  speechless 
woman,  whose  white  face  and  beseeching  eyes  wrere  still  towrard  him,  expres- 
sive of  an  intensity  of  suffering  and  desire  that  was  almost  fearful.  He  had 
turned  over  some  half-dozen  pages  of  the  document,  when  suddenly  he 
dropped  it,  sprang  forward  in  his  chair,  his  face  brightened  almost  into 
beauty,  and  he  rubbed  his  hands  together  joyfully.  'Oh,'  said  he,  '1  know  all 
about  it  now— I  know  all  about  it!  This  case  has  been  before  me,  and  I  de- 
cided it  ten  days  ago.  The  Major's  sentence  was  forwarded  for  my  approval, 
with  a    recommendation    to  mercy,  and    without    any    solicitation    I   have 

changed  his  sentence  of  death  to  two  years'  imprisonment.     Major has 

been  a  brave  man,  and  a  good  man,  and  a  good  soldier,  and  he  had  great 
provocations,  and  has  had  for  a  year.     Your  husband  knows  all  about  it  before 


144  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

now,'  he  said,  addressing  the  wife,  'and  when  you  go  hack  you  must  go  and 
see  him,  and  teU  him  to  bear  his  imprisonment  like  a  man,  and  take  a  new 
start  in  the  world  when  it  is  over.' 

"The  Major's  wife  did  not  at  first  comprehend,  hut  we  explained  to  her. 
She  attempted  to  rise,  and  made  a  gesture  as  if  she  were  going  to  kneel  at 
the  President's  feet,  but  she  only  slid  helplessly  to  the  floor,  in  a  heap  before 
him,  and  for  a  long  time  lay  in  a  dead  faint.  The  President  was  greatly 
moved.  He  helped  raise  her,  and  when  she  was  taken  from  the  room  he 
paced  back  and  forth  for  a  few  moments,  before  he  could  attend  to  other 
business.  'Poor  woman!' he  said,  'I  don't  believe  she  would  have  lived  if 
her  husband  had  been  shot.     What  a  heap  of  trouble  this  war  has  made!' 

"The  expression  of  the  President's  face,  as  it  dawned  upon  him  that  he 
had  already  interposed  between  the  Major  and  death,  will  never  leave  my 
memory.  His  swarthy,  rugged,  homely  face  was  glorified  by  the  delight  of 
his  soul  which  shone  out  on  his  features.  He  delighted  in  mercy.  It  gave 
him  positive  happiness  to  confer  a  favor.     Once  after,  I  had  the  pleasure  of 

seeing  those  sad  features  lighted  up  with  holy  feeling. 

******** 

"What  work  is  appointed  him  in  the  new  country  to  which  he  is  gone 
we  may  not  know;  but  this  we  know — that  henceforth  'joy  is  duty  and  love 
is  law.'  Never  again  shall  his  gentle  nature  be  wrung  by  a  stern  necessity. 
No  more  shall  justice  and  wisdom  demand  a  severity  which  pity  agonizes 
to  mitigate.  In  the  Laud  of  the  Lord  whither  he  has  gone  there  are  no 
harsh  measures  to  be  enforced,  no  penalties  to  be  inflicted,  no  pleadings  to 
be  withstood.  The  kindly  heart  may  indulge  to  the  full  all  its  kindliness,  and 
yet  be  acting  only  in  the  line  of  stringent  duty.  All  we  can  know  or  con- 
jecture is  but  as  the  fringe  of  the  border  of  his  robe,  lieasonmg  upward 
from  the  supremest  delights  of  earth,  we  can  but  faintly  conceive  of  the  de- 
lights of  Heaven.  Our  sweetest  songs  are  but  discordant  echoes  of  the 
celestial  harmony.     Beyond  these  shadowy  hints, 

" 'O  friend!  if  thought  and  sense  avail  not, 
To  know  thee  aeiceforth,  as  thou  art— 

That  all  is  well  with  thee  forever, 
I  trust    tin'   instincts  of  my   heart.'" 


-^  o&.   (^- 


5 


CAROLINE    M.     SAWYER.  145 


CAROLINE   M.     SAWYER 

Is  one  of  the  most  gifted  of  American  women,  in  whose  heart  dwell  the 
voices  of  poetry  and  of  song,  and  all  the  attributes  of  the  earnest  Christian. 
She  was  born  in  the  quiet  town  of  Newton,  Mass.,  in  ltii'2.  Her  maiden 
name  was  Fisher,  and  she  bears  relationship  to  the  Gores,  Danas,  Gridleys, 
Foxcrofts  and  Kendricks,  and  last,  but  not  least,  she  is  a  descendant  of 
Thomas  Cranmer,  who  pronounced  the  divorce  between  Henry  VHI.  and  the 
kind,  good  Queen  Katherine  of  Arragon.  Miss  Fisher's  maternal  grand- 
father (with  whom  she  lived  with  a  widowed  mother  and  a  highly  educated 
but  invalid  uncle)  was  John  Kendrick,  who  commanded  a  company  at  Con- 
cord and  Lexington,  and  continued  his  loyalty  by  being  a  conscientious  Aboli- 
tionist, who  not  only  talked  but  worked  and  gave  freely   for  the  bondman. 

The  last  part  of  the  inscription  on  his  monument,  written  by  William 
Lloyd  Garrison,  reads:  "If  there  had  been  ten  like  him  in  the  States,  the 
stain  of  slavery  woidd  not  have  darkened  another  star  in  the  North  American 
constellation.  A  forerunner  of  Abohtion,  he  was  a  liberal  contributor  to  the 
first  society  formed  for  that  object  in  our  country,  and  died  its  presiding 
officer.'*  Mrs.  Sawyer  says:  "I  sucked  in  this  abhorred  heresy  with  my 
mother's  inilk."  With  her  lofty  faith,  and  such  blood  coursing  her  womanly 
heart,  we  can  not  wonder  that  she  ripened  apace  in  this  home  in  which  the 
inmates  were  lovers  of  science  and  literature,  liberty  and  justice. 

The  first  we  learn  of  her  scholarship  and  wonderful  memory  is  at  a 
Baptist  Sunday-school,  where  the  Bible  and  Watts'  hymns  were  committed 
to  memory.  As  Caroline  took  her  seat  in  her  class  one  Sunday,  with  her 
face  all  aglow,  the  teacher  said  to  her — "Well,  little  curly-head,  what  have 
you  for  a  lesson  this  morning '?"  "I  have  the  first  eight  chapters  of  Mark." 
was  the  innocent  reply.  The  teacher  recalled  the  fact  with  great  pride  years 
after,  saying — "That  little  girl  of  eight  years  recited  the  eight  chapters  with- 
out hesitating  upon  a  word,  and  at  another  time  the  119th  Psalm  at  one 
bout,  without  a  word  of  prompting!  Nor  was  it  a  Poll  parrot  recitation,  for 
the  very  tones  of  her  voice  showed  that  she  appreciated  the  spirit  of  what 


146  OUK    WOMAN     WOKKEES. 

she  had  learned."  Committing  the  Scriptures  and  Watts'  hymns  was  not 
only  her  spiritual  food,  but  her  only  intellectual  pastime,  for  it  is  well  known 
that  sixty  years  ago  children  had  few  story-books  besides  "  Mother  Goose," 
which  at  that  time  was  almost  the  only  classic.  Soon,  however,  we  learn  of 
her  standing  tip-toe  at  a  bureau,  when  her  chin  just  rested  upon  the  drawer, 
in  which  was  carefully  put  away  an  elegantly  bound  edition  of  Shakespeare, 
which  belonged  to  the  invalid  uncle.  Her  eyes,  through  her  mother's  kind- 
ness, had  feasted  on  the  external  beauty  of  the  book,  and  she  had  also 
received  the  promise  that  as  soon  as  she  was  old  enough  she  could  read  it, 
for  the  good  mother  believed,  as  many  another  mother  has,  that  she  was  her 
child's  intellectual  purveyor,  and  understood  the  compass  of  her  brain,  as 
well  as  the  kind  of  fuel  it  needed  for  nourishment  and  life.  Not  so  with  the 
child ;  her  whole  being  craved  something  that  would  help  her  to  converse 
intelligently  with  the  birds  and  the  flowers  and  with  human  hearts.  And 
so  we  can  not  blame  her  that  her  reading  of  Shakespeare  was  surreptitiously 
indulged,  but  recall  the  perplexities  she  must  have  encountered  in  reading 
that  enormous  book  on  tip-toe,  patiently  turning  leaf  by  leaf  without  once 
removing  the  book  from  the  drawer.  Surreptitiously  she  thought  she  was 
breaking  the  promise  given  her  mother;  but,  in  fact,  she  was  watched  by 
the  delighted  eyes  of  her  learned  uncle.  She  said  to  a  friend:  "I  knew  I 
was  wickedly  breaking  a  promise  not  to  read  it  until  I  was  older,  but  the 
temptation  was  too  great  and  my  hunger  grew  by  what  it  fed  on,  and  my 
disobedient  act  continued  until  I  completed  the  last  volume."  After  this 
intellectual  feat,  Caroline  was  not  restricted  in  reading  material.  Bunyan's 
Pilgrim's  Progress  (which  she  says  was-  even  more  fascinating  than  Shakes- 
peare), Plutarch's  Lives,  and  Hume's  and  Smollett's  History  of  England  were 
devoured.  This  was  heavy  reading  for  a  child  not  ten  years  of  age,  but  not 
once  did  she  flinch  until  the  task  was  completed,  swallowing  also  at  intervals 
every  other  book  attainable. 

We  next  hear  of  Caroline  at  school,  where  "noonings"  brought  great 
delight  to  the  children,  for  as  soon  as  the  lunch  baskets  were  emptied,  she 
would  mount  one  of  the  benches,  and  the  children  would  gather  around  with 
open-eyed  and  open-mouthed  wonder  and  delight,  to  listen  to  her  improvised 
stories  of  the  improbable  and  absurd   doings  of  knights  and  ladies,   fairies 


CAROLINE    M.    SAWYER.  147 

and  hobgoblins,  with  which  she  regaled  herself  as  well  as  them.  This  con- 
tinued until  the  uncle  removed  her  from  the  meager  advantages  of  a  country 
school  to  his  own  supervision.  Soon  after  this,  as  a  labor  of  love,  he  pre- 
pared an  herbarium  of  the  hundreds  of  wild  plants  of  New  England  growing 
within  ten  miles  of  Boston,  for  the  Royal  Botanical  Society  of  Edinburgh, 
Scotland ;  and  in  all  these  collections  and  preparations,  from  the  early  days  of 
Spring  to  the  fading  days  of  Autumn,  she  wandered  forth  hand  in  hand  with 
the  uncle,  whose  heart  was  idled  with  delight  in  instructing  her  in  the  lore 
of  nature.  They  clambered  hills,  and  culled  the  flowers  that  threw  their 
petals  to  the  careless  lovers  of  blossoms,  and  explored  the  valleys,  in  which 
are  found  the  floral  bells  that  "toll  their  perfume  on  the  passing  air;"  and 
in  the  coolness  and  shade  of  the  forests  they  not  only  acquired  botanic  lore, 
but  health  of  body,  and  cultivation  in  the  young  girl  of  that  poetic  sense 
and  faculty  which  for  a  half  century  have  placed  the  name  of  Caroline 
Sawyer  high  among  those  of  the  gifted  daughters  of  song. 

Rev.  D.  K.  Lee  said,  in  speaking  of  this  beautiful  relationship  and  the 
memory  of  it:  "Such  recollections  must  be  arched  as  with  rainbows,  and 
breathings  as  with  festive  music ;  among  the  pictures  and  melodies  we  shall 
take  from  earth  to  heaven  with  us,  to  beautify  our  mansion  there,  and  give 
us  tender  thoughts  of  the  green  little  island  wTorld  we  left  behind." 

Mrs.  Sawyer  commenced  writing  when  very'young,  but  wras  as  private 
with  her  youthful  songs  as  a  sweetheart  with  her  lover's  letters.  The  friends 
who  did  get  a  peep  at  her  verses  were  among  the  lucky  and  favored  ones. 
Their  importunities  to  her  to  send  her  poenis  to  be  published  were  without 
avail.  One  day,  however,  she  received  a  paper  directed  to  Miss  Caroline  M. 
Fisher.  She  opened  it  without  excitement,  and  commenced  scanning  its  con- 
tents, when  her  heart  gave  a  great  bound  of  fright  in  recognizing  one  of  her 
own  poems.  Some  kind  friend  to  the  public  had  purloined  it  from  Caroline's 
treasures,  and  introduced  her  to  the  reading  world,  with  which  she  has  ever 
since  been  a  favorite.  She  was  thirteen  years  old  at  this  time.  I  think  it 
was  the  "Burlington  Sentinel  "  that  published  her  first  poem.  At  all  events, 
young  as  she  was,  she  was  a  most  welcome  contributor  to  the  "Sentinel," 
and  afterward  to  the  "Boston  Evening  Gazette"  and  "  Democratic  Review." 

Miss  Caroline  did  not  neglect  her  studies,   but  continued  them  with 


148  OUE    WOMAN    WOKKEKS. 

energy,  until  she  became  one  of  the  best-educated  women  in  America.  She 
delighted  in  French  and  German,  of  which  she  became  a  most  graceful 
translator ;  and  in  history  and  mythology,  with  which  she  has  enriched  hun- 
dreds of  fascinating  pages. 

In  1831,  Caroline  M.  Fisher  was  married  to  Rev.  Thomas  J.  Sawyer, 
D.D.,  the  pastor  of  Orchard- street  Church,  in  New  York  City.  Thomas  J. 
Sawyer  has  been  a  name  long  beloved  in  our  household  of  faith.  His  voice 
and  pen  have  been  mighty  in  the  defense  of  our  doctrines;  and,  united  in 
marriage  with  one  of  such  marked  talent,  and  a  faith  as  lofty  as  his  own,  is 
it  any  wonder  that  our  church  should  receive  an  impetus  under  their  united 
energies?  It  owes  them,  indeed,  a  debt  of  obligation  that  future  generations 
will  not  fail  to  recognize  and  hold  in  affectionate  and  perpetual  remembrance. 

Mrs.  Sawyer  has  been  one  of  the  most  prolific  writers  of  our  denomina- 
tional literature;  and  yet  one  of  the  finest  critics  declares:  "Her  lyre  was 
always  in  tune,  and  always  put  things  in  tune  around  it;  and  never  do  we 
remember  to  have  read  a  line  of  hers  that  clashed  a  discord,  or  was  harsh, 
or  languid,  or  heavy.     All  was  graceful,  all  was  musical,  all  was  harmony." 

During  Mrs.  Sawyer's  twenty-five  years  in  New  York  her  pen  was  con- 
stantly recording  the  music  of  her  thoughts.  For  several  years  she  was 
editor  of  the  youth's  department  in  the  "Christian  Messenger,"  and  the 
children,  who  loved  her,  waited  with  impatient  delight  from  week  to  week 
for  the  beautiful  surprises  they  were  sure  to  receive.  Those  children  are  now 
men  and  women,  who  continue  to  love  her  not  only  for  the  knowledge  they 
received  through  her  writing  in  that  little  corner,  but  for  bringing  out  the 
latent  good  within  them,  and  the  lifting  upward  of  their  young  natures  into 
the  light  of  Universalism. 

Mrs.  Sawyer,  while  a  contributor  to  "Graham's  Magazine,"  the  "Knick- 
erbocker Magazine"  (of  which  she  was  a  star),  made  an  engagement  in 
1841  with  the  "Democratic  Review,"  which  she  fulfilled  with  promptness 
and  delight  to  the  publishers.  For  several  years  she  was  a  constant  con- 
tributor to  the  "Odd  Fellows'  Magazine,"  published  in  Baltimore,  Md.;  for 
Horace  Greeley's  "New  Yorker; "and  that  broad-brained  man,  it  is  said,  read 
greedily  everything  of  hers  that  appeared,  and,  if  possible,  his  face  beamed 


CAROLINE    M.    SAWYER.  149 

with  a  more  placid  light  after  the  reading.  Park  Benjamin,  who  was 
chary  of  every  line  in  his  paper  that  was  not  filled  by  accomplished  writers, 
opened  wide  the  door  into  the  "New  World"  for  Caroline  M.  Sawyer. 

"The  Merchant's  Widow"  is  a  tale  that  reached  great  popularity;  and  her 
stories,  essays  and  poems  would  fill  volumes.  They  are  of  a  very  even  ex- 
cellence. Scarcely  a  poor  line  can  he  found  in  ah  she  has  written ;  and  her 
literary  labors  have  always  heen  self-sacrificing;  for,  while  she  might  have 
achieved  a  great  popularity,  her  manifold  original  productions,  and  her  grace- 
ful translations  from  the  French  and  German  have  heen  a  labor  of  love  to 
enrich  and  elevate  the  standard  of  the  literature  of  her  own  denomination,  to 
which  she  has  been  true  in  every  hour  of  need.  When  our  church  was  in  its 
Spring-time,  she  gave  to  it  the  sweetness  of  her  heart  and  the  brilliancy  of 
her  mind.  A  grateful  minister  said  some  years  since:  "This  large-hearted, 
scholarly  woman  came  to  us  in  our  weakness  and  loneliness,  and  drew  in  voice 
after  voice  of  a  shining  band,  to  charm  us  into  graceful  speech  and  eloquent 
thought;  to  set  bright  visions  open  before  us,  and  lead  our  young  and  ardent 
church  on  its  march  up  the  hills  of  light." 

Mrs.  Sawyer  became  editor  of  the  "Rose  of  Sharon"  in  1849.  She  was 
a  constant  contributor  from  its  first  appearance,  in  1840,  during  Sarah  Ed- 
garton's  editorship.  In  18G0  she  became  editor  of  the  "Ladies'  Repository." 
Her  fearless  yet  Christian  manner  so  enlivened  its  pages  that  it  not  only  sus- 
tained its  high  literary  excellence,  but  constantly  grew  in  favor  with  the  best 
readers.  At  the  present  time  (1881)  Thomas  J.  Sawyer,  D.D.,  is  Packard 
Professor  of  Theology  in  Tufts  College.  He  is  a  distinguished  scholar  and 
theologian,  and  his  is  one  of  the  most  honored  names  in  our  church.  And 
Mrs.  Sawyer,  with  her  honored  husband,  is  surrounded  by  troops  of  friends, 
and  in  the  fulness  of  a  ripened  religious  nature,  and  after  fifty  years  of  wed- 
ded life,  faces  the  Autumn  days  serenely;  the  smile  of  her  youth  yet  lingering 
Lovingly  after  seventy  years,  as  though  loth  to  leave  the  face  where  so  long  it 
has  been  a  constant  guest.  By  forgetting  herself  and  laboring  for  humanity, 
she  has  drawn  the  atmosphere  of  eternity  closely  and  sweetly  around  her 
sold. 

A  volume  of  her  prose  and  poetical  works  shoidd  be  published ;  it  woidd 


150  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

be  surpassed  in  literary  merit  by  few,  if  any,  of  the  works  of  American 
women.  The  writings  of  Mrs.  Sawyer  range  through  a  wide  variety  of 
themes. 

VIOLA. 

A    PICTURE    FROM    ZANONI. 

On  the  low  sill  sits  the  singer, 

Youthful,  pale  and  fair, 
Twining  'round  her  slender  finger 
Dreamily  her  hair. 

While  above  her  head  the  fruited  vine, 
Purpling  deep  the  trellised   arches, 

Bowers  the  open  door; 
Twines  among  the  drooping  larches 
And,  athwart  the  floor 

Weaves  the  shadow  with  the  shine. 
There  she  sits,  her  heart   a  mine 

Ever,  evermore, 
Lulled  with  dreamings  of  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars! 

Scarce  is  she  beyond  her  childhood. 

With  a  child's  young  face; 
Not  a  blossom  of  the  wild-wood 
Hath  a  sweeter  grace; 

Not  a  song-bird  pours  a  sweeter  lay. 
Rich  and  low,  the  wild  strain  gushes 

Erom  her  slender  throat; 
Every  bird  its  carol  hushes 
As  her  trancing  note 

Mingles  with  the  fountain's  silvery  play. 
Lone,  unconscious,  thus  she  whiles  away 

Ever,  evermore, 
Life  in  musings  on  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 

Ah,  sweet  maid!   give  o'er  thy  dreaming 
Of  the  youthful  sage! 

Shun  the  light  forbidden,  gleaming 
Erom   tin-   mystic   page 

Of  his  volumes  weird  and  old! 

Waken!    there   is  peril,  danger 
In  his  glance,  his  smile; 

Wed  thee  with  the  English  stranger- 
lb'  will  not   beguile. 

Though   liis  lips  be  sometimes  cold, 


CAKOLINE    M.    SAWYER.  151 

He  is  yet  <>f  mortal  mold; 

But  torevermore 
Bur  thy  heart  against  Zanoni 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 

Rise!    betake  thee,  silent,  lonely. 

To  thy  chamber  still, 
Though  thy  father's  spirit  only 
Crosses  now  the  sill 

By  the  living  crossed  of  yore! 
Though  no  eyes  save   his  now  meet  thee 

By  the  twilight  hearth; 
Though  no  voice  but  his  may  greet  thee, 
Nor    in  song  nor  mirth, 

Friend  or  lover  eometh  more, 
Linger  there  and  shut  thy  door 

Closely  evermore, 
Ere  glides  in  the  pale  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 

Warning  vain!    thy   heart   is  fated! 

Thine  is  woman's    lot! 
By  thy  side  Love  long  has  waited, 

Though  thou  knew'st  it  not 
In  thy  child-like  innocence! 
Now  a  new,  divine  emotion. 

Fathomlessly  deep. 
Wakes  thy  bosom,  like  the  ocean. 
Nevermore  to  sleep; 

Never  to  be  banished  thence,*- 
Never,  until  thought  and  sense. 

Lost  forevermore. 
Die  to  earth  and  to  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 

When  thy  song's  full  tide  was  filling 

Life's  diviner  part, 
Like  a  flash  electric,  thrilling 
All  the  thousands'   heart- 
Did  not  his  smile  wake  thy  wondrous  power 
When,  thy  radiant   robes  around   thee, 

All  the  mighty  throng, 
With   ecstatic    plaudits,   crowned    theo 
Glorious  Queen  of  Song,— 

In   that    proud,   triumphant   hour. 
Like   a   frail,   dew-laden    flower, 

Then  and   evermore, 
Bowel  thy  heart   not   to  Zanoni, 
The   Seeker  of  the   Stars? 


152  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Ay!    as  suns  in  Summers  Polar 

Never  set  in  night, 
So,  o'er  thy  young  soul,  Viola, 
In  ne'er  fading  light, 

Pours  his  spirit  its  bright,  fatal  beams. 
Haunted  by  his  eyes'  dark  splendor, 

Closer,  day  by  day. 
Visions  beautiful  and  tender 
Gather  round  thy  way, 

Till,  through  twilight's  softest  gleams, 
Through  thy  sleeping,  waking  dreams 

Ever,  evermore, 
Looks  the  radiant  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 

Strikes  thy  doom!    the  cloud  is  creeping, 

Closing  o'er  thy  head, 
While  thy  Lares,  vainly  weeping 
Round  thy  maiden  bed, 

Pour  their  warnings  on  thy  deafened  ears. 
Underneath  the  low  vines,  standing 

Glorious  by  thy  side, 
He.  with  voice  deep,  sweet,  commanding. 
Wooes  thee  for  his  bride. 

His  henceforth  —thy  few,  brief  years, 
Interwrought  with  love  and  tears, 

Ever,  evermore, 
Will  be  mingled  with  Zanoni, 
The  Seeker  of  the  Stars. 


THE    LOST    GEMS. 

While  I  muse  the  Are  burns. 

As  I  sit  and   watch  the  gleaming 
Of  the  faint  and  fitful  blaze, 

Flickering  up   the   narrow   chimney, 
Shedding  'round  a  twilight  haze, 

Prom    the   glowing   mass,   enveloped 
Iii    a,    soft,   gray,   ashen   wreath. 

Shining  gems  drop  down  and  darken 
'Mong  the   embers  underneath. 

Thus,  T  think,   while  quick    emotion 
Stirs  the  founl   in  feeling's  eave, 

You.  my  darlings    dear  l'*si    darlings 
Dropl  and  darkened  in  the  gravel 


CAROLINE    M.    SAWYER.  158 

As  I  muse  the  fire  burns; 

All  through  memory's  dim  recesses 
Full  and  strong  its  light  is  shed, 

Showing  me  with  Life-like  clearness 
Loved  ones  lost,  estranged  and  dead  — 

There  a  white  hand  coldly  waves   me, 
Baffling  all   niy   love,   adieu; 

There  a  world  ol  deep  affection 
Looks  from  dying  eyes  of  blue; 

There  a  couch,   a   fair  child  on   it, 
Anguished  weepers  by  its  side— 

Oh,  my  darlings— Oh,   lust  darlings 
Hearts  were  breaking   when  you  died! 

As   the   lire    bums   I    muse; 

Memory  takes  the  chair  beside  me, 
Points  me  to  a  curtained  shrine; 

Little  need  to  ask  the    meaning  — 
Unrequired  is  word  or  sign  — 

Well  I  know!     I  see  them   lying. 
Small,  bright  robes  of  silken  sheen; 

Slender  chains  and  costly  bracelets, 
Gems  with   golden  links  between. 

'Tis  too  much!    a  sense  of  loneness 
Deep  and  strange  is  on  me  now; 

Oh,  my  darlings— Oh,  lost  darlings 
These  are  yours,  but  where  are  you? 

Still  the   fire   burns;    still   I    muse; 

Back  they   come,   those   Summer   mornings 
When  I  watched  you  'mong  the  flowers; 

Down  the  garden  alleys  chasing 
Golden  butterflies  and   hours: 

On  your  arm,  perchance,  a  basket 
Filled  with   berries  from  the  wood; 

All  your  fair  round  cheeks  a-glowing 
With  the   rich,   warm,   rosy   blood. 

Buttercups  and  daisies   wreathing 
Like  a  glory  round  your  head  — 

Oh,   my  darlings— Oh,  sweet  darlings, 
Dear  and   bright,   why   are    you   dead? 

As  I  muse   the    (Ire   burns: 

Looking  through   my   curtained   window, 
All  without   is  gloom   and   night, 

Bid   the   (lames   that    Light    inv    chamber 
Every   moment   seem    more   bright  — 

So  while  memory  gathers   round    me 
Shadows  darksome,  sad  and  gray, 
11 


154  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Burns  within  a  light  that  cheers   me 
With  a  still  increasing  ray; 

Far  through  time  it  sends  its  beaming, 
Far  beyond  the  silent  sea. 

To  the  land.   Oh,   long-lost  darlings. 
Where  you're  waiting  still  for  me. 


MY    TAPER. 

If  in  some  low  place,   shunned  of  favored  men, 
I  set  my  candle-stick  and  trim  the  light 
And  cheer  the  dismal  nook  where  only  night 
Reigned  hitherto,  am  I  not  doing  then 
God's  works  as  truly,  faithfully,  as  when 
The  beacon  fire  I  kindle  on  the    hill, 
To  light  a  thousand  upturned  brows,  and  lill 
With  sudden  radiance  every  glade  and  glen? 
Angels  appeared  to  holy  men  of  old 
In  the  dark  prison,  and  none  saw  their  light 
Beyond  the  walls!     The  heavenly  ones  who  told 
The  Savior's  birth,  shone  on  no  mortal  sight 
Save  Judah's  shepherds'.     Let  me  take  heart  then 
And  keep  my  taper  bright,  though  shining  for  few  menl 


HELEN   RICH. 


Helen  Hinsdale  was  born  June  18,  1827,  in  Antwerp,  Jefferson  Co., 
N.  Y.  Her  father,  Ira  Hinsdale,  was  a  pioneer  farmer,  and  she  was  horn  in 
a  log  cabin  on  the  farm  he  cleared  in  1821.  Her  mother  died  in  1879.  In 
those  days  of  log  cabins,  school  advantages  were  few,  and  Mrs.  Kich  speaks 
of  the  influence  of  the  need  of  such  ctdture  on  her  entire  life  with  regret  and 
sadness.  She  had  but  one  term  at  Gouverneur  Wesleyan  Seminary,  in  addi- 
tion to  a  common-school  education.  To  Universalism  she  was  born,  and  to 
that  she  was  bred,  and  closely  to  its  faith  she  has  lived,  and,  when  a  child  of 
twelve,  expressed  its  beauty  in  rhyme.  She  was  married  at  twenty,  and  not- 
withstanding her  life  has  been  one  of  constant  domestic  care,  she  has  extorted 


HELEN    1UCH.  155 

time  to  write  voluminously  and  with  remarkahle  force  and  beauty  several 
hundred  poems  and  a  vast  amount  of  prose,  including  stories,  lectures,  ad- 
dresses, etc.  Most  of  her  .studying  has  been  done  in  spite  of  engrossing 
home  cares  since  marriage.  She  was  with  Professor  J.  S.  Lee,  of  Canton, 
N.  Y.,  several  months,  in  her  thirty-seventh  year.     She  writes: 

"I  appreciate  the  honor  you  do  me  to  appear  with  the  'Working  Women 
of  our  Church,'  but  blush  at  the  comparison.  Alas!  I  have  had  no  such 
grand  opportunities  for  culture  as  those  blessed  women,  and  have  written 
only  when  others  slept,  or  when  others  would  have  been  too  weaiy,  soul  and 
body,  to  write.  I  had  only  one  academical  term  before  marriage,  and  not 
until  after  I  was  forty  did  I  see  more  than  one  city  (Syracuse),  and  no  lake  or 
mountain  or  the  sea." 

In  reading  the  following  description  of  Mrs.  Rich's  present  home,  by  a 
tourist,  it  is  easy  to  see  that  she  has  now  a  more  congenial  abiding  place. 

"While  in  Brasher  we  enjoyed  the  generous  and  refined  hospitality  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Moses  Rich.  Their  old-fashioned,  one-story,  but  high-walled, 
neat  and  commodious  house  (one  of  the  best  in  Brasher)  quietly  nestles 
amid  the  rich  foliage  of  the  surrounding  trees,  and,  with  its  sloping  lawn  and 
profusion  of  blooming  flowers,  ornamental  shrubs  and  plants,  presents  a  vivid 
picture  of  elegant  and  reigning  comfort,  the  thought  of  which  will  long  linger 
in  our  memoiy.  Mrs.  Rich  is  a  poetess  of  rare  ability  and  high  merit,  and 
from  her  pleasant  surroundings  we  wonder  not  that  she  is  inspired  with  won- 
derful poetic  fancies." 

Mrs.  Rich  has  written  con  amove,  and  not  as  a  vocation.  Her  poems 
have  had  a  wide  circulation  in  the  periodical  press;  but  her  chief  productions, 
poems  of  great  length,  have  never  been  published.'  Her  rare  facility  of  versi- 
fication, and  felicity  of  diction,  may  be  illustrated  by  the  following  lines : 

"Side  by  side  two  tiny   hillocks,  just   as  little  lamlis  may   meet. 

That  have  wandered  from  the  fallows  to  the  daisied  meadows   sweet, 

Sleeping  in  the  blessed  sunshine,   hearing  not   the  mother's  bleat! 

"One  was  borne  to  peaceful  slumber  when  the  sunset's  crimson  dyes 

On  her  catafalque  of  lilies  fell  in  royal  draperies. 

And  a  train  of  stately   mourners  looked    farewell   with   tearless  eyes. 

"And  I  seemed  to  hear  the  mother,  who  had  crossed  the  Silent  Sea. 
To  await  that   angel   voyager  in   her  snow-white   argosy, 
Cry,  Hosannah  to  the  Savior,  once  a  babe  in  Bethany. 


156  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"But  the  other,  in  the  dawning  of  a  bitter  April   day, 
When  the  frozen  tears  of  Heaven  on  the  pale  arbutus  lay, 
Was  borne  out  in  pauper's  coffin  by  the  sexton  stern  and  gray. 

"Never  glow  of  bud  or  leaflet  on  that  little  sinless  breast, 
Never  toll  of  bell  or  chanting  holy  words  of  quietness- 
Only  sobs  of  mortal  anguish,  of  a  sinner  unconfessed." 

Mrs.  Eich  has  been  a  contributor  to  the  "Rose  of  Sharon,"  "Lily  of  the 
Valley,"  "Ladies'  Repository,"  "Overland  Monthly,"  "New  York  Tribune," 
"Chicago  Tribune,"  "Detroit  Tribune,"  "New  Covenant,"  "Star  in  the  West," 
"Springfield  Republican,"  "Burlington  Hawkeye,"  "Boston  Transcript," 
"Boston  Commonwealth,"  "Woman's  Journal,"  "Universahst,"  "Christian 
Leader,"  and  many  other  periodical  publications.  A  fine  critic,  Prof.  J.  S. 
Lee,  says  of  her:  "She  has  studied  nature  and  human  character,  and  seems 
to  understand  the  mysteries  of  life.  She  ranges  aU  through  the  regions  of 
the  beautiful  and  the  sublime,  and  tires  not  for  her  journey,  and  gives  us  her 
impressions  in  the  freshest  manner,  and  her  thoughts  come  to  us  in  the  fra- 
grance of  freshly-cut  clover  and  the  flowers  of  Spring ;  and  some  of  her  earn- 
est and  whole-souled  lyrics  are  worthy  of  Gerald  Massey  or  Charles  Mackay. 
And  such  fines  as  these,  addressed  to  the  Adirondacks,  are  worthy  of  Milton: 

"  'At  night  to  feel   the  heart-beat  of  the  stars, 

Alone  with  awful  mysteries,  to  press 
The  pulse  of  centuries,  to  fold  the  wings 

Of  restless  thought  in   heavenly  blissfulness.' 

"She  speaks  of  her  friend: 

"  'And  other's  grief  was  rainbowed  by  her  tears, 
Her  lips  dropped  sweetness  as  a  rose;  no  sting 
Slept  in  the  perfumed  chambers  of  her  soul.'" 

Mr.  Lee  further  says:  "She  is  a  very  prolific  writer,  but  she  sacrifices 
not  depth  to  profuseness.  She  writes  because  she  can  not  restrain  the  emo- 
tions of  her  soul.     Few  genuine  poets  are  so  full  of  the  divine  impulse." 

"Her  eye  is  quick  and  keen,  and  she  seizes  the  beauties  of  outward 
nature  and  the  human  soul,  and  reproduces  them  in  terse  and  vivid  lan- 
guage. Her  observation  is  wide  and  her  range  of  subjects  varied.  Her 
poetic  vision  glances  from  earth  to  heaven,  and  anon  from  heaven  to  earth 


HELEN    RICH.  157 

again,  with  lightning  velocity.  She  mounts  her  Pegasus  and  rides  into  the 
empyreal  skies  without  fear  of  danger,  and  quickly  descends,  safely  and  grace- 
fully. Her  figures  are  original,  unique  and  striking.  This  is  a  rare  thing  at 
this  late  day,  when  the  poets  have  visited  every  department  of  nature  and 
life,  and  appropriated  nearly  everything  to  he  found  there. 
"And  in  her  description  of  Spring: 

"  'Earth  wakes  from  her  long,  icy  sloop. 

Tuts  on  her  yellow  sun-robes  fair; 
The*  water-nymphs  lave  shining  feet, 

The  wood-nymphs  drop  their  ringlets  there.' 

"A  delicate  and  dainty  figure-    wood-nymphs  dropping  their  soft  ringlets 
on  the  pearly  meadows. 
"She  represents: 

"'Groat,  flaming  suns,  liko  mighty  conquerors. 
Taking  as  prisoners  whole  hosts  of  clouds'— 

a  figure  as  striking  as  it  is  sublime. 

"She  is  a  vigorous  prose  writer,  as  seen  in  her  'Wills,  Won'ts  and  Can'ts 
of  History,'  'Literature  of  the  Rebellion,'  '  Madame  De  Stael,' and  other 
lectures  and  contributions  to  the  press.  She  has  lectured  extensively  on 
'Temperance,'  'The  Rights  and  Wrongs  of  Woman,'  and  is  a  most  fervid  and 
eloquent  speaker.  She  has  done  much  for  moral  reform  and  the  regenera- 
tion of  society. 

"She  is  an  influential  and  active  member  of  our  church,  and  she  feels  a 
deep  interest  in  the  form  of  Christianity  which  we  represent,  and  her  light  is 
never  hid  when  an  opportunity  presents  itself  of  doing  something  for  propa- 
gating it. 

"No  one  can  measure  the  sphere  of  her  influence  as  a  poet,  a  lecturer, 
a  moral  and  social  reformer  and  a  Christian." 

Mrs.  Rich  is  one  of  our  most  earnest  temperance  workers,  and  her  lectures 
upon  that  subject  are  recorded  as  not  only  persuasive  to  the  fallen,  but  of 
high  literary  merit.  One  critic  said:  "Your  lecture  would  be  creditable  to  a 
man,  in  power.  Your  shaft  was  polished,  and  glittered  in  the  sunshine  of 
truth."     Says  another:   "She  has  a  firm,  clear  voice  and  an  imposing  per- 


158  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

sonal  appearance.  She  unites  in  an  eminent  degree  the  graces  of  her  sex 
with  the  persuasive  charms  which  have  made  oratory  almost  immortal  in 
every  age."  A  writer  in  the  "Albany  Express,"  after  listening  to  a  hterary 
treat  from  Mrs.  Eich,  said:  "She  is  one  of  the  representative  women  of 
northern  New  York,  and  her  writings,  politically  and  poetically,  have  the  true 
ring  of  genius." 

Mrs.  Eich  has  one  daughter,  Mrs.  D.  C.  Lyon,  of  St.  Joseph,  Mo.,  an 
accomplished  musician;  and  a  son,  Pitt  C.  Eich,  of  Chicago.  We  should 
be  glad  to  delight  our  readers  with  many  pages  of  Mrs.  Eich's  poems  if  it 
were  possible,  but  we  can  only  present  the  following: 


LOST    AND    FOUND. 

(To  my  Daughter.) 

Oh,  my  lost  bird,  that  sang  to  me  all  day! 

Wee  bird,  that  found  its  voice  within  my  breast, 
Trying  its  pretty  wings,  has  flown  away, 

Speeding  to  palace  gardens  of  the  West. 
There,  in  a  lovely  cage,  with  dainty  fare, 

Her  bright  head  flashing  'mid  the  glossy  leaves, 
With  organ  trembles,  blended  song  and   prayer, 

The  old  enchantment  evermore  she  weaves. 

When  morning  sunshine  dances  on   the  nest 

(White,  downy  nest,  deserted)  mute  I  glide— 
My  yearning  kisses  on  that  shrine  are  prest. 

And  tears  are  welling  in  resistless   tide. 
Oh,  new-found  nest!    Oh,  sunny  head  that  lies 

Surely  beneath  an  angel's  brooding  wing. 
Sings  she,  in  "dreams,"  of  weary,  waiting  eyes. 

And  blind  to  half  the  glory  of  the  spring? 

If  God  cares  aught  for  motherhood,  I  know 

When  Summer  lies  in  Autumn's  warm   embrace — 
Her  dying   roses  with  his   lips   aglow— 

That  I  shall    look    upon  my  darling's   face, 
Note  the  first  flutter  of  the  song   astir 

In  her  white  throat,  and,  thrilling  in  sweet  pain, 
Find  recompense  for  every  grief  in  her, 

And  life's  lost  music  live  for  me  again. 


HELEN    HIGH.  159 

When  the  first  timid  leaf  with  many  sighs  grew  pale, 

And,  shuddering,  dropped  upon  the  ivied  arbor  floor, 
■When  the   blue   haze,  like   misty    bridal    rail, 

Draped  the  far  hills  and   kissed  the  pebbly  shore. 
When  all  my  flowers  held  carnival,   and  flung 

Their  perfumed  banners  to  the  August   air — 
My  long  lost  starling  "neath  the   lattice  sung 

Of  Spring-time  glory— sang  to  death  grim  care. 


TO    MRS.    CHISOLM.    OF    KEMPER    COUNTY,    MISS. 

I  still  see  my  brave  husband  murdered,  hear  his  dying  words,  "Jesus— my 
wife,  my  dear  wife."  I  see  my  little  Johnny  throw  his  arms  about  his  father  to 
protect  him  from  the  mob.  "Mother,  if  I  leave  him  they  will  kill  him;"  see  his 
poor  little  hand  shattered  with  their  merciless  bullets;  hear  my  sweet  Cornelia, 
dying,  exclaim,  "Dear  mamma,  you  have  a  sick  baby  this  morning,"— killed  defend- 
ing her  father.— Mrs.  Chisolm's  letter  in   New   York  Tribune. 

I    Sweet  sister,   woman,   mother!    thy   sad   story, 

Like  Rachel's  cry.  goes  wailing  through  the  land; 
Nay,  thou  hast  sounded  till  the  deeps  of  glory, 

Swept  every  heart-string  with  thy  widowed  hand. 

Bereft  of  home,  despoiled  of  baby  fingers 

(Brave  Johnny's  fingers,  clinging  not  in  vain) 

That  martyr  hand— its  potent  touch  yet   lingers, 
Stinging  cold  bosoms  with  a  mighty  pain. 

And  that  meek  "Mamma!"  of  thy  winsome  daughter, 

When  I  forget   the   pathos  of  its  sigh. 
And  fall  of  tears,   bitter  as   Moab's   water. 

Unheeded   my   own   darlings'   anguish-cry. 

All  motherhood   through   thy   white    bosom  wounded, 
All  wifehood  wronged,  our  faith  and  honor  fled. 
In  vain   our  eagle's   cry   for   fr loin   sounded 

When   thou,   wan   martyr,    knelt    beside   thy   dead. 

Sweet  soul,  be  patient:  drop  by  drop  the  measure 

Of  justice   tills— all   nature  takes  thy  part; 
Eternal  truth  gives  bonds  for  thy  lost  treasure; 

Thy   country    wears   the   -cars    upon    its    heart. 

Now  Freedom    mourns.     The   spoiler   hath    his   hour, 

But  "God  is   God"   in    Dixie   as   in    Maine. 
For  every   exiled   band   ther metfa    power. 

And   (irant    shall   bring  them   tu   their  own   again. 


160  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

APPLE    BLOOMS. 

I  keep  this  festal  time  of  year 

As  sacred  to  a  love  that  died 
When  winds  were  still,  and  skies  were  clear. 
And  life  was  young,  and  hope  and  fear 

Walked  with  me  side  by  side; 
And  saddest  of  all  earthly  glooms 
To  me  the  pale,  sweet  apple  blooms. 

I  never  saw  the  sunshine  fall 
So  warm  and  golden  as  it  lay 

Aslant  that  woodland  waterfall. 

As  if  the  Father's  love  for   all 

Had  blessed  each  flower  of  May; 

And  fair  as  frost  of  Eastern  looms 

The  haunting  touch  of  apple  blooms. 

Ah!    rare  as  gales  of  tropic   climes 
These  violets  with  brooding  eyes. 

And  fragrance  of  arbutus  vines, 

With  iris,  royal  as  the  wines 
Of  prophet's  paradise! 

The  bee  in  honeyed  chalice  booms 

Just  as  in  by-gone  apple   blooms. 

Ah  well!   a  child  will  weep  to  see 

The  butterfly  he  held  so  fast 
Despoiled  of  beauty:  thus  to  me 
The  love  I  prized  was  mockery!— 

Its  gold  but  worthless  dross  at  last; 
And  hence  through  memory's  silent  rooms 
Like  ghosts  they  drift,  white   apple  blooms. 


IMITATIONS    OF    UHLAND. 

THE    ISLAND. 

Like  an  emerald  crown  newly  fallen  upon  the  wave] 

And  glinted  with  sunlight, 

The  island   lies   upon   the   river; 

Ay,  thus,    my   love,    lieth   thy   sweet    smile   upon  my   heart. 

THE     ANGEI.. 

In  my  dream   an   angel  with  eyes  like  thine  J 
Came  floating  down  to  me; 
I  awoke   to  sigh   that,  such   angels,   alas! 
Come   to   me   only   in   drciims. 


MARY    U.    WEBSTEB.  101 


MARY  C.  WEBSTER. 

The  experiences  of  Mrs.  Webster  have  been  the  extremes  of  enjoyment 
and  sorrow.  The  youngest  and  the  indulged  of  a  large  family,  she  felt  no 
care  until  her  first  husband's  health  began  to  fail.  Mary  C.  Ward  was  born 
in  Litchfield,  Conn.,  July,  1825.  Her  father,  William  Ward,  a  gentleman 
of  the  "old  school,"  was  from  a  family  somewhat  inflated  by  family  pride, 
but  he  was  quiet  and  retiring  in  the  extreme  before  strangers,  though  bubbling 
over  with  sparkling  wit  when  surrounded  only  by  well-known  friends. 
William's  grandfather,  Rev.  Solomon  Palmer,  was  educated  at  Old  Yale, 
preached  the  Presbyterian  doctrine  for  several  years,  suqnised  his  audience 
one  Sunday  by  announcing  his  change  of  views,  soon  sailed  for  London, 
and  there  received  ordination  from  the  Bishop.  After  returning  he  took  charge 
of  a  parish  in  New  Haven.  I  mention  this  fact  to  show  the  cause  of  the  tend- 
ency to  Episcopacy  in  the  Ward  family.  When  it  was  first  known  that 
William  (Mary's  father)  was  to  marry  Charlotte  Munger,  the  daughter  of  a 
poor  mechanic,  the  inflated  family  pride  received  a  direful  shock.  But  this 
little  Charlotte  had  sweet  and  winning  ways,  a  poetic  spirit,  which  beautified 
and  enriched  soul  and  body.  She  was  conscientious,  intelligent  and  loving; 
ami  before  the  husband's  family  were  aware  of  it,  pride  and  indignation  had 
given  way  to  love,  and  she  was  received  as  their  own.  Mrs.  Ward  was  a 
member  of  the  Episcopal  Church  for  forty  years.  But  through  the  influence  of 
a  beloved  and  very  religious  son  who  came  into  the  blessed  sunshine  of  faith 
in  an  impartial  God,  she  carefully  read  and  examined  the  Scriptures  for 
two  years,  which  led  her  into  the  happy  belief  of  universal  salvation,  and,  Mrs. 
Webster  says,  by  which  faith  she  was  sustained  through  some  of  the  darkest 
trials  of  her  life,  and  whose  mild  effulgence  beamed  over  all  her  declining 
years,  making  them  rife  with  the  very  beauty  of  heaven;  and  to  this  blessed 
faith  was  Mary  led  by  her  mother,  although  her  mother's  name  was  never 
taken  from  the  Episcopal  church-book. 

Mary  was  not  systematically  educated;   for  the  older  children,  her  par- 
ents were  very  anxious  that  they  should  receive  the  richest  education,  and 


162  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

encouraged  them  to  application,  to  their  great  sorrow,  until  the  health  of  sev- 
eral failed,  and  they  were  removed  by  death.  They  did  by  Mary  as  most 
loving  parents  would  have  doue — took  the  other  extreme;  and  she  was  allowed 
plenty  of  books,  but  freedom  from  all  schoolroom  restraints,  and  free  chance 
for  exercise  in  the  open  air.  She  says:  "I  was  turned  out  at  the  early  age  of 
twelve  to  browse  at  pleasure  (like  Charles  Lamb)  in  God's  open  book  and  in 
the  wholesome  pastures  of  English  literature.  Her  first  published  poem 
was  written  at  the  age  of  twelve.  Mary  was  married  when  quite  young  to 
Mr.  F.  A.  Grannis,  a  merchant,  of  Hartford,  Conn.,  and  immediately  identi- 
fied herself  with  our  church  in  that  city.  The  years  1859-60  she  traveled 
abroad  with  her  husband,  and  put  the  result  of  her  experiences  and  observa- 
tions into  a  most  interesting  series  of  letters  called  "Thither-Side  Sketches" 
for  the   "Ladies'  Kepository." 

After  returning  from  their  foreign  trip,  where  she  had  realized  to  the  full- 
est extent  the  dream  of  her  childhood — of  standing  upon  Italian  soil,  and  visit- 
ing its  art  galleries — they  built  a  beautiful  surburban  home,  known  to  all 
their  reading  friends  and  others  as  "Lilfred's  Best."  For  several  years  Mrs. 
Grannis  led  a  happy,  quiet,  intellectual  life,  reading  what  she  most  enjoyed, 
and  writing  only  when  the  spirit  was  moved ;  and  from  which  lovely  home  we 
can  easily  imagine  the  following  was  written : 

COUNTRY    SOUNDS    IN    MAY. 

A  murmurous  hum  of  thronging  bees 
Among  the  blossom-laden  trees; 
The  whirr  of  wings,  the  song  and  call 
Of  music-throated  warblers,  all 
Responsive  to  the  affluent  tide 
Of  joy   anil    beauty,   flooding   wide. 

The  tremulous  stir  of  leaf  and  vine, 

The  rhythmic  sound  of  sweet-mouthed  kine, 

Cropping  the  fresh  and  juicy  grass. 

While  slowly  through  the  lanes  they  pass, 

Treading  above  the  soft  brown  mold, 

On  verdant  carpets,  starred  with  gold. 

The  tinkling,   us  of  fairy    bells. 

Of  tiny  brooklets   in   the   dells; 

The  drip  of  mimic  waterfall, 

Tim   pipe  of  frog,  and  tree-toad's  call; 


MARY    C     WEBSTER.  168 

The  cadence  oi  the  river'8  plash, 
Suft  Lapping,  or  with  merry  dash, 
Rushing  in  silver   waves  along, 
A  joy   to  sight— to  hear,   a  song. 

Thus,  through  these  wonder-working  hours, 
From   tow'ring  trees  to  simplest    (lowers. 
Thai    grandest    miracle   is   WTOUghl 
Of  life   from   death,    a   lesson   taught 
Where  Nature's  quick'ning  pulse   is  stirred, 
And  her  glad  sounds  of  cheer  are  heard. 
Thus  doth   she,   from   her   brimming  urn, 
Pour  lavishly,    in  rich  return 
For  many   a   dark    and   dreary   day. 
The   beauty   and   the  joy   of  May. 

But  the  warp  and  woof  of  life  is  not  always  silver  and  gold.  The  health 
of  Mr.  Grannis  was  precarious,  and  a  change  of  climate  must  he  made  in 
search  of  that  precious  blessing — health.  The  sylvan  recesses  of  Turpentine 
Camp  in  the  pine  forests  of  Alabama  were  chosen  as  the  most  likely  spot 
that  woidd  cause  "the  languid  eyes  to  kindle  with  their  wonted  beams,  and 
the  pale,  thin  face  to  grow  round  and  mantle  with  the  flush  of  health,  and 
vanished  strength  return."  But  the  soft,  healing  properties  of  the  air, 
which  was  ever  redolent  with  balsamic  odors,  did  not  put  new  cheer  into  the 
invalid's  spirit,  or  rejuvenate  the  languid  pulse,  or  clothe  the  pale,  thin  face 
or  mantle  it  with  health;  and  so,  before  it  was  too  late,  the  dear  wife  says: 
"On  a  golden  day  we  again  mounted  the  ambulance  and  rode  forth  from 
that  sylvan  region  so  fraught  with  new  and  deep  experiences  to  our  soids. 
The  parting  from  those  kind  friends,  so  strongly  endeared  to  us  by  their 
many  virtues  and  the  loving  care  bestowed  upon  us,  was  a  trying  scene; 
while  the  long  homeward  journey,  alone  with  the  enfeebled  invalid,  rose  up 
darkly  in  the  future,  as  a  mountainous  undertaking  fraught  with  difficulty 
and  danger.  But  God  is  good;  and  through  his  protecting  care  the  weary 
journey  was  at  length  accomplished.  The  blessed  home  threshold  was 
reached.  Loving  hearts  welcomed  the  weary  wanderers,  and  willing  hands  min- 
istered to  every  want.  The  peaceful  light  shining  on  my  darling's  face  as  he 
went  through  each  familiar  room,  the  whispered  words  and  gush  of  thank- 
ful tears  as  he  said  'I  shall  be  happier  if  I  die  to-morrow,  now  that  we  are  at 
home  again,'  are  they  not  precious  memories  to  my  soul?"     Mr.  Grannis 


164  0UK     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

continued  to  fail,  and  soon  kissed  the  hem  of  His  garment  and  entered  into 
the  rest  that  remaineth. 

Several  years  after  the  death  of  Mr.  Grannis,  the  widow  married  Eev.  C. 
H.  Webster,  and  was  to  him  a  helpmeet  indeed.  She  assisted  her  husband 
in  his  pulpit  ministrations  while  he  was  performing  missionary  work.  She 
had  never  been  ordained,  but  often  supplied  for  absent  ministers  most 
acceptably.  She  has  been  Vice  President  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Asso- 
ciation seven  years  of  its  existence.  She  has  intense  interest  in  every  project 
for  the  welfare  of  women,  but  does  not  believe  that  women  should  crowd 
themselves  too  much  forward — -"but  just  enough."  Mrs.  Webster  delivered 
at  a  civil  and  military  banquet  in  Montreal  an  address  which  was  highly 
complimented.  She  closed  by  reciting  a  poem  entitled  "Victoria  Regia."  It 
was  very  complimentary  to  the  queen,  and  was  received  with  tremendous 
applause.  Her  letters  from  the  forest  of  Alabama  are  instructive  and  enter- 
taining. "Bear  Ye  One  Another's  Burdens"  is  a  very  touching  little  poem, 
containing  a  whole  sermon. 

"BEAR    YE    ONE    ANOTHER'S    BURDENS." 

O  mortals!  bear  ye  one  another's  burdens, 

And  thus  the  perfect  law  of  Christ  fulfil; 
Better  than  gold,  or  the  world's  highest  guerdons. 

Is  it  to  know  and  do  his  holy  will. 

Oh  thou  who,  tenderly  compassionate  and  lowly. 
Once  trod  these  earthly  paths  in  human  guise. 

Thy  sacred  lessons  we  have   learned  too  slowly. 
Too  oft  thy  heavenly  precepts  we  despise. 

From  the  abundance  ol  thine  own  compassion, 

By  the  exhaustless  power  of  thy  pure  love. 
Do  thou   our  wills  and   tempers   kindly  fashion 

Into  some  semblance  of  the  life  above; 

That    we,   while   here  amid    these  scenes  of  trial, 

May   never  more  thy  blest  instruction    slight, 
And  the   unerring  hand  on  Faith's  clear  dial. 

Point   ever  upward   to  the   realms  of  light; 

And  thus  this  lower  life  of  ours  be  glowing 
With   radiance   from   thy   spirit's   holy   light, 


MARY     C.     WEBSTER.  165 

While  from  our  souls  kind   words  and  actions  Bowing 

Shall    make    earth's    saddest,    darkest    seasons    bright 

An  admirable  volume  could  be  made  from  Mrs.  Webster's   "Thither 
Side  Sketches";  from  her  letters  from  Alabama;  and  from  her  many  and  able 
communications  in  prose  and  verse  in  the  denominational  periodical  press. 
In  1877  Mrs.  Webster  was  called  to  pass   through  another  affliction  in  the 
death  of  her  second  husband.     This  poem  followed  his  death: 

TRANSFIGURED. 

I  said  to  Grief,  "My  portion,  thou! 

My  meat  and  drink  this  rain  of  tears; 
Henceforth  on  broken  wing,  as  now. 

Shall  trail  the  remnant  of  my  years." 

And  dark  days  came  and   went   again; 

And  thought  was  without  form,  and  void, 
Save  as  a  sickening  sense  of   pain. 

Of  wasting  want,  of  hope  destroy'd. 

At  last  the  Mount  of  God  was  seen, 

And  Grief  l ame  transfigured  there, 

With  angel   vision,  calm,  serene, 

And  angel  presence,  passing  fair. 

And  from  that  travail  sore  of  woe, 

When  earth  was  brass,  the  sky  aflame, 
Was  born  a  Faith  'twas  joy  to  know, 

And   life's  great  Peace  thro'  suffering  eamo. 

Her  home,  "Sycamore  Place,"  is  in  one  of  the  loveliest  villages  of  the 
Connecticut  valley,  surrounded  by  charming  scenery  which  delights  all  who 
look  upon  it.  Frequent  articles  from  her  pen,  dated  from  Sycamore  Place, 
adorn  the  pages  of  our  periodical  literature.  Having  no  children,  she  leads  a 
quiet  life,  and  expects  little  enjoyment  beside  what  comes  through  her 
church.  She  is  deeply  interested  in  all  that  pertains  to  the  prosperity  of  our 
denomination  and  the  spread  of  the  Gospel  of  peace  and  good  will  in  the 
world.  Notwithstanding  her  great  afflictions  she  says :  "I  wish  to  have  it  dis- 
tinctly understood  that  whatever  of  sorrow,  trial  and  care  maybe  endured  in 
this  life,  I  firmly  believe  the  essentially  good  far  overbalances  the  evil,  even  of 


16G  OUlt    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

this  lower  existence.  And  if  this  be  the  fact  here,  how  much  more  will  this 
obtain  hereafter,  when  the  weakness  of  mortality  is  over  and  the  spiritual 
life  is  begun." 


MELVINA   J.   MANLEY 

Was  the  second  wife  of  Rev.  W.  E.  Manley,  D.D.,  author  of  Manley's 
"Commentary  on  the  Old  Testament."  Her  maiden  name  was  Melvina  Jane 
Church.  She  was  the  thirteenth  of  a  family  of  nineteen.  She  was  a  daughter 
of  Capt.  Richard  Church,  of  Nunda,  N.  Y.,  and  was  in  her  cradle  when  her 
future  husband  was  a  boy  of  ten,  separated  from  her  only  fifteen  miles;  and 
the  subsequent  man  facetiously  writes:  "Had  I  known  at  the  time  that  she 
would  be  my  wife,  I  would  have  made  her  a  visit."  Her  birth  was  Dec.  9, 
1821.  As  a  child  she  was  very  bright,  active  and  cheerful,  and  self-sacrific- 
ing to  her  brothers  and  sisters.  Her  ambition  for  a  superior  education  was 
unbounded,  and  Dr.  Manley  says  this  desire  led  to  disastrous  consequences. 
Her  father,  having  faith  in  the  Puritan  process  of  hardening  his  children, 
obliged  them  to  walk  a  mile  and  a  half  to  school  through  rain  or  snow, 
which  necessitated  them  to  sit  all  day  with  garments  wet  about  their  limbs. 
This,  Dr.  Manley  says,  made  no  difference  to  the  old  gentleman,  who  was 
set  in  his  determination  not  to  have  his  children  grow  up  with  puny  constitu- 
tions; so  he  kept  two  or  three  spans  of  horses  in  the  barn,  bedded  with  good 
oat-straw  and  warmly  blanketed,  munching  hay,  oats  or  corn,  for  the  sake 
of  putting  his  children  through  the  hardening  process,  as  he  thought,  but 
in  reality  sowing  seeds  of  consumption.  Mrs.  Church,  the  Doctor  writes,  "had 
more  sensible  ideas;  and  her  eyes  without  doubt  followed  her  little  loved 
ones  with  anxiety  and  fear.  But  her  husband  was  the  head  of  his  family,  and 
every  thing  went  as  he  willed.  With  what  complacency  we  all  observe  the 
diminishing  of  the  self-appointed  heads  of  fifty  years  ago! 

This  ambitious  girl  at  the  age  of  sixteen  commenced  teaching,  and  not 
only  supported  herself   but  supplied  her  brothers  and  sisters  in  little  indul- 


MELVINA    .1.    MANLEY.  107 

gences  which  the  "great  head"  did  not  deem  necessary.  f3y  teaching  she 
was  able  to  spend  :i  few  terms  at  the  academy,  and  she  contributed  toward 
the  education  of  her  brother  Lawrence  S.  Church,  who  settled  in  Woodstock, 
LI.,  and  became  eminent  as  a  lawyer  and  member  of  the  Legislature. 

Before  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Manley  subscribed  herself  as  M.  Jane  Church 
to  most  of  her  articles  for  the  press.  She  was  a  permanent  contributor  to 
the  "Ladies'  Repository."  She  had  great  gifts  in  writing  Indian  stories,  the 
material  of  which  she  obtained  from  her  Uncle  Rix,  who  was  an  Indian 
trader  from  1815  till  that  trade  was  displaced  by  civilized  society.  Her  best 
production,  Dr.  Manley  writes,  has  never  been  published.  It  is  a  poem  writ- 
ten in  the  style  of  Scott's  "Lady  of  the  Lake."  Some  of  her  Indian  stories 
were  accounted  by  many  equal  to  Cooper's.  The  unpublished  poem  is  a 
legend  entitled  "The  Braves  of  O-Wash-te-nonk."  Miss  Church  left  school- 
teaching  to  "fight  the  battle  of  life,"  aided  by  a  Universalist  minister  with- 
out means  and  without  health,  in  October,  1848.  In  one  year  from  that  time 
Mrs.  Mauley's  exposure  in  youth  began  to  show  itself  in  her  failing 
health.  Their  first-born  was  a  son,  who  was  cared  for  most  tenderly,  but  he 
was  not  destined  to  remain  long  upon  earth.  He  died  at  the  age  of  eighteen 
months.  "From  that  time  on  for  fifteen  years"  says  Dr.  Manley,  "we  did 
little  but  to  watch  over  our  children  and  bury  them.  Only  one  survived  as 
long  as  the  first.  He  was  named  after  Dr.  Credner,  of  Germany,  whose  library 
was  purchased  and  given  to  Canton  Theological  Seminary.  All  of  our  chil- 
dren were  boys  but  one,  and  this  one  we  named  Eliza  Throop,  for  Mrs  A.  G. 
Throop,  of  Chicago.  Six  children  were  born  and  buried  before  the  departure 
of  the  wife  and  mother."  Dr.  Manley  continues:  "The  sad  termination  of 
this  life  of  struggle  and  suffering  took  place  away  from  home,  the  last  week 
in  March,  1877.  She  was  sick  only  four  days,  and  passed  to  her  reward 
the  31st."  She  rests  beside  her  six  little  ones  and  the  former  wife  ami  bod  in 
the  family  lot  in  (Iraceland,  near  Chicago. 

Mrs.  Manley  had  a  fine  education.  Her  judgment  on  the  fitness  and  pro- 
priety of  words  and  sentences  in  English  composition  was  very  superior,  and 
was  of  invaluable  service  to  her  husband,  the  eminent  commentator.  I  give 
Dr.  Mauley's  exact  words  below: 

"I  do  not  suppose  it  would  interest  the  reader  to  be  informed  of   all  our 


168  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

struggles  during  the  last  thirty  years,  of  which  she  bore  her  part  nobly.  She 
hud  a  peculiar  adaptedness  to  the  business  I  am  engaged  in.  She  loved  the 
study  of  the  Scriptures,  and  was  very  skilful  in  defending  them.  She  had  a 
good  knowledge  of  Latin  and  Greek,  and  of  French  and  German  among  the 
modern  languages.  I  greatly  miss  her  presence  and  her  encouraging  words; 
but  I  rejoice  to  know  that  she  suffers  no  more."' 


HARRIET  S.  BAKER. 

Miss  Baker  was  born  in  one  of  the  loveliest  of  all  the  beautiful  rural 
villages  in  New  England,— Norridgewock,  Me., — Sept.  11,  1829.  With  few 
opportunities  for  the  exercise  of  the  great  love  for  our  church  which  from  a 
child  she  has  experienced,  her  life  has  been  a  continual  influence  for  good 
in  its  behalf.  Isolated  from  organized  churches,  she  has  not  only  nourished 
and  cherished  the  faith  in  her  heart,  but  its  truths  have  been  ever  on  her 
lips  and  manifested  in  her  life.  She  is  one  of  whom  there  are  multitudes, 
who  live  on  the  blessed  faith  for  which  our  church  stands,  and  find  it  a  light 
to  their  feet  and  a  lamp  to  their  path,  and  who  are  living  and  loving  epistles 
in  the  eyes  of  all  beholders.  An  invalid  for  nearly  forty  years,  she  has  not 
only  been  sustained  by  her  faith,  but  has  found  a  sweet  and  continual  em- 
ployment in  uttering  its  consoling  and  cheering  words  with  tongue  and  pen. 
Making  no  pretension  to  literary  ability,  her  own  experiences  are  constantly 
saying  to  her,  as  the  Voice  to  the  Revelator,  "  Write!"  and  out  of  the  fulness 
of  her  trusting  inner  life  she  has  sent  her  messages  to  the  world.  "  The 
Gospel  Banner"  and  "New  Covenant"  have  been  her  chief  media  of  com- 
munication. "  She  has  done  what  she  could,"  and  what  she  has  done  has 
always  gone  from  her  heart's  best  love  for  that  church  to  which  she  gave  her 
covenant  vows  in  18(51,  in  the  church  at  North  Auburn,  the  nearest  organ- 
ized church  to  her  home. 

Years  ago  this  sweet-souled  woman  invited  some  little  children  to  come 
into  her  home  every  Sabbath,  for  instruction  upon  the  love  of  God.     She  be- 


HARRIET     S.     BAKER.  109 

gan  with  three  little  ones  only,  who  were  poor  and  had  never  been  to  Bun- 
day-school.  The  number  increased  till  she  registered  over  twenty  names.  This 
little  class  continued  for  more  than  eight  years,  there  never  being  but  a  sin- 
gle Sabbath  when  she  was  able  to  have  them  come  but  some  were  there,  no 
matter  how  rough  the  weather  or  bad  the  traveling.  She  saw  them  grow 
op  under  her  care  till  they  were  quite  young  ladies,  when  her  dear  mother's 
long,  sad  illness  obliged  her  to  close  her  labors.  She  composed  in  rhyme 
each  one's  lesson,  giving  a  lesson  in  each  of  God's  love,  the  works  of 
nature,  etc.  She  printed  them  with  a  pen  till  they  were  able  to  read 
writing.  She  says :  "God  gave  me  thoughts  and  ways  to  instruct  them ;  and  I 
never  felt  more  humble  than  I  did  to  see  them  come  so  constantly,  and 
with  such  unabated  interest,  to  learn."  She  previously  had  three  sisters  to 
teach  (until  they  grew  up  and  left  home),  striving  to  instruct  them  in  things 
pertaining  to  a  better  life.  Thus  she  was  both  teacher  and  superintendent 
in  Sunday-school  instructions  in  her  own  home  for  twenty  years.  The  fol- 
lowing is  a  favorable  example  of  the  strains  in  which  Miss  Baker  expresses 
that  faith  which  is  so  clear  to  her: 

MY    FUTURE    AND    MY    TRUST. 

I  can  not  tell— I  can  not  know 

Whither  my  weary  feet  shall  go, 
Or  how   be   fed; 

But  in  God's  love  I  will  confide, 

And  let  whatever  ill  betide- 
By  him  I'm   I'd. 

Although  thy  tender  hand,    O  God! 

Is  holding  now  thy  chastening  rod 
Above   my  head. 

And  fondest  hopes  lie  all  around 

Like  Autumn  leaves  upon  the  ground- 
Withered  and  dead. 

E'en  in    the   darkness   of    the   hour 
I  own  the  mercy,  love  and  power 

That's  o'er  me   still! 
And  some  day  thou  shalt  make  me  see 
How— and  why— there  oame  to  me 

This  sad,  sad  ill  1 
12 


170  OUK    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

And  as  I  trembling  stoop    to  drink 
The  bitter  dregs  (from  which  I  shrink) 

Within  the  cup, 
I'll  own  thy  ways  are  just  and  right— 
For  faith  is  better    far  than  sight. 

And  I'll   look    up! 

Thou'lt  lead  me  better  than  I  know, 
Out  from  the  mystery  of  the  woe 

That's  mine  to-day! 
Thou  may'st  e'en  now  have  placed  a  sweet 
That  waits  the  coming  of  my  feet— 

To  gladden  all  my  way! 

Then  with  the  sealed  book  in  my  hand, 
That  will  unfold  to  me  thy  plan 

For  coming  years, 
I  know  that  I  no  joy  shall  lose, 
For  thou  wilt  give,  as  thou  dost  choose- 
Away  with  fears! 

While  as  a  little  child  I  lean 
Upon  thee— oh,  thou  great  Unseen- 
Close  clasp  my  hand! 
Thy  "promises"  thou  wilt  fulfil. 
Whether  comes  good,  or  seeming  ill— 
In  faith  I  stand. 


JULIA  A.  CAKNEY. 


"  Julia  Fletcher"  is  one  who  subordinates  outward  show  to  intrinsic 
beauty;  and  this  disposition  secured  to  her  many  friends  in  her  youth, 
who  still  regard  her  with  great  kindness  and  interest,  and  who  speak  of  her 
as  a  most  feeling  and  instructive  talker.  She  was  born  April  G,  1823,  in 
Lancaster,  Massachusetts,  and  commenced  rhyming  before  she  coxtld  hold  a 
pen;  hut  her  first  effusions  of  verse  were  published  in  the  Lancaster  and 
Concord  local  papers  at  the  age  of  fourteen.  Very  soon,  and  for  years  after, 
she  occupied  the  "  Poet's  Corner"  in  the  Boston  "Trumpet."  In  a  letter  to 
us  she  says:    "  I  can  well  remember  my  feelings  were  akin  to  jealousy  when 


JULIA    A.    CARNEY.  171 

I  discovered  the  initials  of  'A.  C  and  'P.  C  invading  the  corner  I  had  hegun 
to  consider  as  my  own;"  hut  we  know  the  solicitude  for  herself  soon  turned 
to  admiration  for  Alice  and  Phcehe  Carey,  who  sang  and  lived  our  beautiful 
faith,  and  who  still  continue  to  do  so,  though  now  beyond  this  vale  of  tears. 
Miss  Fletcher  was  very  generous  in  furnishing  articles,  both  prose  and 
verse,  for  the  "  Christian  Freeman"  when  it  was  established.  Something 
from  her  pen  appeared  in  almost  every  number  of  the  "  Rose  of  Sharon," 
and  also  in  the  "Lily  of  the  Valley."  In  the  "  Universalist  Miscellany"  her 
articles  bore  the  signature  of  "  Eev.  Peter  Benson's  Daughter,"  and  were  read 
with  great  interest.  In  1810  she  commenced  writing  for  the  "Ladies'  Reposi- 
tory," under  the  signature  of  "Julia."  Before  our  child's  paper,  the 
"Myitle,"  became  the  "Myrtle,"  in  all  its  changes  she  was  its  friend  and 
contributor.  Li  the  "  Orphan's  Advocate"  and  "  Social  Monitor,"  published 
in  Boston  in  1844,  appeared  that  touching  poem  that  has  been  claimed  by 
so  many,  and  by  one  who  was  not  born  until  after  its  birth : 

THE    ERRING. 

Think  gently  of  the  erring: 

Ye  know  not  of  the  power 
With  which  the  dark  temptation  came 

In  some  unguarded  hour. 
Ye  may  not  know  how  earnestly 

They  struggled,  or  how  well, 
Until  the  hour  of  weakness  came. 

And  sadly   thus  they  fell. 

Think  gently  of  the  erring: 

Oh,  do  not  thou  forget, 
However  darkly   stained   by  sin. 

He  is  thy  brother  yet. 
Heir  of  the  self-same  heritage, 

Child  of  the   self-same   God, 
He  hath  hut  stumbled  in  the  path 

Thou  hast   in  weakness  trod. 

Speak  gently  to  the  erring: 

For  is  it  not  enough 
That  innocence  and  peace   have  gone. 

Without   thy   censure  rough? 
It  sure  must  be  a  weary  lot 

That  sin-crushed  heart  to  bear, 


172  OUE    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

And  they  who  share  a  happier  fate 
Their  chidings  well  may  spare. 

Speak  kindly  to  the  erring; 

Thou  yet  may'st  lead  them  back, 
With  holy  words  and  tones  of  love, 

From  misery's  thorny  track. 
Forget  not  thou  hast  often  sinned. 

And  sinful  yet  must  be; 
Deal  gently  with  the  erring  one. 

As  God  hath  dealt  with  thee. 

It  has  been  published  in  "  Adams  and  Chapin's  Hymn  Book,"  but  we 
can  not  see  it  too  often  if  we  will  but  profit  by  its  lessons. 

In  1845,  when  studying  phonography  in  Andrews  &  Boyle's  class,  Bos- 
ton, she  was  asked  to  give  an  impromptu  exercise  on  the  black-board.  Only 
ten  minutes  were  allowed,  and  in  that  time  she  wrote  the  first  verse  of 
"  Little  Things."  It  has  been  a  favorite  of  children  in  Sunday-school  exhi- 
bitions from  that  time  on,  and  has  been  recited  and  sung  thousands  of  times. 
It  was  first  published  in  our  Sunday-school  paper,  now  caUed  the  "  Myrtle." 

LITTLE    THINGS. 

Little  drops  of  water, 

Little  grains  of  sand, 
Make  the  mighty  ocean 

And  the  pleasant  land. 

Thus  the  little    minutes, 

Humble  though  they  be, 
Make  the  mighty  ages 

Of  eternity. 

Thus  our  little  errors 

Lead  the  soul  away 
From  the  path  of  virtue 

Oft  in  sin  to   stray. 

Little  deeds  of  kindness, 

Little  words  of  love. 
Make  our  pleasant  earth   below 

Like  the  heaven  above. 

Soon  after  her  little  phonographic  poem  was  published  it  appeared  in 
the  Methodist  "  Sunday-School  Advocate,"  with  an  additional  verse  about 


JULIA    A.    CARNEY.  178 

missionary  pennies,  to  which  she  lays  no  claim.  She  was  a  regular  contrib- 
utor to  the  well-known  "  Boston  Olive  Branch."  She  also  wrote  two  volumes, 
published  by  J.  M.  Usher,  entitled  "  Gifts  from  Julia,"  and  a  series  of  Sun- 
day-school question  books  most  acceptable  and  useful  to  our  church  at  that 
time.     "  Poetry  of  the  Seasons"  was  published  by  Abel  Tompkins. 

Julia  Fletcher  was  married  to  Rev.  T.  J.  Carney,  May  1,  1849.  Since 
her  marriage  her  writing  has  been  chiefly  prose,  and  for  the  "  Phrenological 
Journal,"  "Science  of  Health,"  "Midland  Monthly,"  and  our  various  denomi- 
national papers,  especially  the  "  New  Covenant."  In  18G9  and  1870  she 
conducted  the  Home  and  Fireside  department  of  the  "  New  York  National 
Agriculturist,"  and  the  "  Bee-Keepers'  Journal."  As  she  was  expected  to  fill 
several  columns,  and  with  continued  novelties,  she  surprised  her  readers  with 
a  variety  of  signatures,  some  of  which  I  will  mention,  that  she  may  be  recog- 
nized: "Minnie  May,"  "Frank  Fisher,"  "  Sallie  Sensible,"  "Minister's 
Wife,"  etc. 

Mrs.  Carney  is  the  mother  of  nine  children,  but  five  of  them  are  with 
their  father,  where  trouble  and  sorrow  are  not  known.  One  daughter  and 
three  sons  are  with  her  in  Galesburg,  111.  The  second  son,  Fletcher  Carney, 
is  a  graduate  of  Lombard,  and  is  practicing  law  in  Galesburg,  and  bids  fair 
to  be  a  very  able  lawyer.  James  Weston  Carney  will  graduate  in  the  class 
of  1883;  and  the  youngest,  Eugene  Francis,  commenced  his  college  course 
in  1880. 

At  the  time  of  Mr.  Carney's  death,  the  family  had  just  removed  to  Apple 
Creek  Prairie,  where  the  people  had  commenced  a  church  under  his  ministry. 
He  left  home  on  horseback,  and  was  returning  to  observe  the  anniversary  of 
their  wedding,  when  he  was  thrown  from  his  horse  and  fatally  wounded. 
At  first  it  was  supposed  the  injury  would  detain  him  at  home  for  a  few  weeks, 
and  he  was  sure  of  a  speedy  recovery;  but  soon  the  lesion  of  a  vein  in  his 
back  caused  unconsciousness  from  which  he  never  recovered.  He  died  May  4, 
1871,  and  was  buried  at  White  Hall.  It  was  a  very  severe  blow  to  Mrs. 
Carney,  from  which  she  had  not  recovered  when  her  son  William,  a  noble 
young  man  of  twenty,  died  suddenly  of  sunstroke.  In  all  his  life  he  had 
never  caused  his  mother's  heart  a  throb  of  pain,  but  his  death  has  nearly 
broken  it.     The  daughter  was  in  the  Sophomore  Class  with  William  at  the 


174  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

time  of  his  death.     She  is  finely  educated,  and  is  a  great  comfort  to  her 
mother  in  these  years  of  lonesomeness. 

The  following  is  from  "The  Cottage  Hearth": 

SOUL    BLINDNESS. 

How  near  another's  heart  we  oft  may  stand. 
Yet  all  unknowing  what  we  fain  would  know 
Its  heights  of  joy,  its  depths  of  bitter  woe, 

As,  wrecked  upon  some  desert  island's  strand, 

They  watch  our  white  sails  near  and  nearer   grow, 

Then  we,  who  for  their  rescue  death  would  dare, 

Unheeding  pass,  and  leave  them  to  despair. 

How  oft  the  word  which  we  would  gladly  speak 
Might  be,  unto  some  darkly  groping  soul, 
The  key  to  bid  doubt's  massive  doors  unroll, 

The  free  winds'  breath  upon  the  prisoner's  cheek, 
Or,  to  the  hungry  heart,  sweet   pity's  dole! 

We  hurry  on,  nor  know  that  they  are  near, 

As  passed  Evangeline  the  one  so  dear. 


EMILY   REBECCA   PAGE. 

The  facts  concerning  this  rare  Christian  girl,  who  was  a  true  worshiper 
at  the  shrine  of  our  most  precious  faith,  I  received  from  her  aunt,  Maria  E. 
Baker,  of  Chelsea,  Mass.,  and  Eev.  B.  F.  Kogers,  of  Marshalltown,  la. 
Casper  Page,  of  Greenhoro,  Vt.,  and  Emily  A.  Alger  were  her  parents. 
When  the  bahe  was  but  two  weeks  old,  the  mother  closed  her  eyes  for  final 
rest.  Her  last  request  was,  that  her  mother,  and  Eugene  Baker,  her  step- 
father, should  supply  the  need  of  parents ;  and  most  faithfully  did  they  keep 
the  trust  throughout  the  girl's  entire  life.     Emily  was  born  May  5,  1834, 


EMILY    KEBECCA    PAGE.  175 

with  a  delicate  constitution,  which  was  most  tenderly  guarded  against  expos- 
ure by  the  grandparents  and  aunts,  for  they  shared  the  fear  with  others  that 
one  with  so  vigorous  and  active  a  mind  and  so  frail  a  body  would  never  live 
to  womanhood.  For  years  she  grew  in  health  and  grace  of  body,  until 
strangers  were  dazzled  by  her  sparkling  beauty.  She  was  slightly  above  the 
medium  in  height,  graceful  in  form,  with  the  daintiest  little  hand  that  ever 
plucked  a  blossom.  Her  complexion  was  clear  and  pearly,  with  fair,  Saxon 
hair  and  lustrous  blue  eyes.  Mr.  Rogers  says:  "Her  face  was  always  beam- 
ing with  intelligence  and  wearing  the  sunny  candor  of  a  child." 

When  young  she  attended  a  private  school  in  Piermont,  N.  H. ;  when 
older  the  Bradford,  Vt.,  Academy,  and  a  short  time  at  St.  Johnsbury.  It 
was  in  Bradford  that  Mr.  Rogers  was  a  schoolmate  of  hers,  and  he  speaks  of 
her  as  most  thoughtful  and  considerate.  She  had  a  kind  and  cheering  word 
for  every  one.  She  was  full  of  enthusiasm,  and  had  a  keen  sense  of  the 
ludicrous,  with  strong  likes  and  dislikes;  quick  at  repartee,  but  never  a  sting 
of  sarcasm  from  her  pierced  the  heart  of  friend  or  foe.  She  was  too  loving 
and  tender-hearted  to  bring  a  blush   of  shame  upon  the  face  of  the  rudest. 

Mr.  Rogers  remembers  with  great  sadness  the  last  time  she  appeared  in 
the  schoolroom.  It  was  at  the  close  of  the  academic  year.  She  was  so  frail 
that  she  was  obliged  to  lean  upon  another  while  she  read  her  essay,  which 
was  scholarly  and  gemmed  with  fun  and  pure  wit. 

Her  earliest  poems  were  published  in  the  local  papers,  when  she  was 
about  twelve  years  old,  and  they  elicited  most  favorable  criticism ;  but  it  was 
a  premature  step,  to  which  she  referred  in  alter  years  with  regret.  But 
her  improvement  was  rapid  and  continuous,  as  is  ever  the  case  with  the  "poet 
born."  If  her  life  had  been  spared  to  middle  age  she  would  have  risen  high 
in  the  literary  world,  and  would  have  done  great   service  for  our  church. 

She  wrote  both  poetry  and  prose  for  our  annuals,  also  for  B.  P.  Shilla- 
ber's  publication,  and  for  the  "Portland  Transcript."  The  "Ladies'  Reposi- 
tory" was  one  of  her  favorite  mediums.  Several  years  previous  to  her  early 
death  she  assisted  M.  M.  Ballou  in  his  literary  work.  The  first  and  revised 
edition  of  "Poets  and  Poetiy  of  Vermont,"  edited  by  Mrs.  Abby  Maria  Hem- 
inway,  contains  several  of  her  poems. 

The  grandfather  died  in    Bradford,  in   1857,  leaving   his  charge  in  the 


176  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

tender  care  of  the  grandmother  and  aunt  Maria.  Soon  after  his  death  the 
broken  family  moved  to  Chelsea,  Mass.,  where  this  beautiful  girl,  whose  heart 
was  like  the  primrose,  opening  most  sweetly  at  the  close  of  life,  died  Feb.  14, 
1862.  "Yes,  on  the  day  that  Emily  R.  Page  was  dead,  the  light  went  out  of 
our  hearts  and  home,"  says  her  aunt.  She  was  buried  in  Woodlawn  Ceme- 
tery, and  the  grandmother  now  rests  by  her. side. 

Her  days  were  brief;  yet  the  influence  of  her  sweet  life,  and  the  enno- 
bling words  which  she  has  left  in  prose  and  verse,  still  linger  behind  her,  and 
are  sacredly  cherished  by  many  who  knew  and  loved  her. 

The  following  is  a  companion  piece  to  "The  Old  Bridge". 

THE    OLD    CANOE. 

Where  the  rocks  are  gray  and  the  shore    s  steep, 
And  the  waters   helow  look  dark  and  deep; 
Where  the  rugged  pine  in  its  lonely  pride 
Leans  gloomily  over  the  murky  tide; 
Where  the  reeds  and  rushes  are  long  and  rank, 
And  the  weeds  grow  thick  on  the  winding  bank. 
Where  the  shadow  is  heavy  the  whole    day  through, 
Lies  at  its  moorings  the  old  canoe. 

The  useless  paddles  are  idly  dropped. 

Like  a  sea-bird's  wings  that  the  storm  has  lopped 

And  crossed  on  the  railing,  one  o'er  one. 

Like  the  folded  hands  when  the  work  is  done; 

While  busily  back  and  forth  between 

The  spider  stretches  his  silvery  screen, 

And  the  solemn  owl,  with  his  dull  "too-hoo" 

Settles  down  on  the  side  of  the  old  canoe. 

The  stern,  half  sunk  in  the  slimy  wave. 

Rots  slowly  away   in   its   living  grave. 

And  tin'  green   moss  creeps  o'er  its  dull  decay. 

Hiding  the  mouldering  dust   away. 

Like  tin'   hand   that   plants  o'er  the  tomb  a  flower. 

Or  tin'  ivy  that   mantles  the  falling  tower; 

While   many   a  blossom  of  loveliest  hue 

Springs   up  o'er  the  stern  cf  the  old  canoe. 

The  current  less   waters  are   dead   and   still- 
But  the  light  winds  play  with  the  boat  at  will. 
And  lazily  in  and  out  again 
It  floats  the   length   of  the   rusty   chain, 
Like  the  weary   march   of  the   hands   of  time 


EMILY    REBECCA    l'AGE.  177 

That   meet   ;in<J  part  at   the  noontide  chime; 
And  the  shore  is  kissed  at  each  turning  anew 
By  the  dripping  bow  ->f  the  old  canoe. 

Oh,  many  a  time,  with  a  careless  hand, 

I  have  pushed  it   away  from  the  pebbly  strand. 

And  paddled  it  down  where  the  stream  runs  quick. 

Where  the  whirls  are  wild  and  the  eddies  are  thick, 

And  laughed  as  I  leaned  o'er  the  rocking  side, 

And  looked  below  in  the  broken  tide, 

To  see  that  the  faces  and  boats  were   two, 

That,  were  mirrored  back  from  the  old    canoe. 

But  now,  as  I  lean  o'er  the  crumbling  side. 

And  I  lcok  below  in  the  sluggish  tide. 

The  faee  that  I  see  there  is  graver  grown, 

And  the  laugh  that   I  hear  has  a  soberer  tone. 

And  the  bands  that  lent  to  the  light  skiff  wings 

Have  grown  familiar  with  sterner  things. 

But  I  love  to  think  of  the  hours  that  sped 

As  I  roeked  where  the  whirls  their  white  spray  shed 

Ere  the  blossom  waved,  or  the  green  grass   grew, 

O'er  the  mouldering  stern  of  the  old  canoe. 

In  this  beautiful  poem  we  get  glimpses  of  her  sweet  trust  in  her  Father's 
love: 

TAKEN    HOME. 

Like  a  sweet  star,   falling  slowly 

In  the  morning's  purple  light. 
Day  by  day  the  dear  one  sleeping, 

Faded  gently  from  our  sight. 

Scarcely  knew  we  when  the  angels 

With  their  shining  hands  let  down 
Softly   to   his  waiting  forehead 

The  immortals'   starry  crown; 

Only  that  a  sudden   beauty 

Drifted  o'er  his  face  like  light, 
Only  that  the  smile  grew  holier 

On  his   lips   so   wan   and   white. 

Shall  we   wee].,  that   thus  so    early, 

Going  from  all  care  and  sin, 
He   has   sought    the   golden    portal, 

And  the  angels  let   him   in? 


178  OUR     WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Shall  we  weep,  dear  friends,  with  thinking 
That  the  dew  which  childhood  wears 

Was  not  quenched  from  off  his  forehead, 
By  the  gathering  dust  of  years? 

That  his  feet  are  saved  from  going 
In  these  thorny  ways  of  ours— 

Led,  instead,  by  silver  waters, 

"Where  the  paths  are  full  of  flowers? 


CORDELIA    ADALINE     QUINBY. 

Mrs.  Quinby,  whose  maiden  name  was  Brooks,  was  born  in  Lewiston, 
Me.,  in  1833.  Her  parents  were  earnest  doctrinal  Universalists,  and  could 
defend  their  faith  with  a  good  deal  of  ability.  One  day  a  model  deacon  of 
the  olden  time  (deacons  have  changed  wonderfully  since  then)  made  a  call 
upon  the  family,  to  enlighten  them  upon  the  wrath  and  vengeance  of  God. 
The  point  he  was  endeavoring  to  make  was  that  they  must  bdieve  in  a 
hell  or  they  would  go  to  hell;  and  while  he  was  expatiating  with  an  apparent 
delicious  delight  over  the  punishment  the  non-believers  in  hell  would 
receive,  this  Cordelia,  who  could  but  little  more  than  lisp  the  name  of  her 
Heavenly  Father,  stepped  up  in  front  of  this  hard-shelled  religionist,  and  said, 
"Hush!  or  God  will  hear  you  say  these  bad  things  about  him."  From  that 
time  on  this  child  seemed  baptized  with  love  for  God,  and  as  soon  as  she 
could  read  and  reason  she  too  found  that  the  doctrinal  points  of  our  glorious 
faith  blended  with  her  spiritual  intuitions.  She  united  with  our  church  in 
Auburn,  Me.,  in  1H;*>5.  In  1801  she  was  married  to  Rev.  G.  W.  Quinby, 
D.D.,  for  many  years  the  able  and  successful  editor  of  the  "Gospel  Banner," 
Augusta,  Me.,  and  author  of  one  of  the  best  books  ever  published,  "  Heaven 
Our  Home." 

Mrs.  Quinby  has  been  a  devoted  Sunday-school  worker,  and  is  deeply 
and  earnestly  interested  in  everything  pertaining  to  the  prosperity  of  the 
church  of  her  love.     She  was  superintendent  of  the  Sunday-school  in  Au- 


MINN  IK    S.     DAVIS.  170 

p;usta,  Me. ,  for  several  years ;  Vice-President  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Asso- 
ciation; and  always  an  able  coadjutor  of  her  husband  in  his  arduous  and 
manifold  labors  for  the  church.  * 

With  characteristic  modesty,  Mrs.  Quinby  would  disclaim  being  ranked 
where  those  who  know  her  best  would  rant  her— among  the  philanthropists 
of  our  century;  but  her  generous  religious  faith  has  impelled  her  to  co-ope- 
rate with  the  abundant  labors  of  her  husband,  and  she  deserves  a  portion  of 
the  honor  which  belongs  to  those  who  have  abolished  the  code  of  blood  from 
the  statute-book  of  the  noble  State  in  which  she  lives.  Gov.  Dingly  has 
commissioned  her  as  one  of  the  Board  of  Visitors  to  the  State  Insane  Hospit- 
al. Her  sweet  spirit  and  beautiful  life  reflect  the  holy  religion  she  loves  and 
for  which  she  labors. 


MINNIE  S.  DAVIS. 


This  long- suffering  woman  was  born  in  Baltimore,  Md.,  March  25, 1835. 
Her  parents,  Rev.  S.  A.  Davis  and  Mary  Partridge,  moved  from  Vermont  to 
Maryland  soon  after  their  marriage,  and  Mr.  Davis  became  one  of  the  early 
preachers  of  that  section  of  the  country. 

Minnie  inherited  from  her  mother  extreme  delicacy  of  organization,  and 
a  highly  nervous  temperament,  a  vivid  imagination,  and  acute  sensitiveness, 
combined  with  those  qualities  which  gave  her  power  to  cultivate  self-control 
and  composure  of  manner.  When  nearly  six  years  old,  an  accident  occurred, 
the  effects  of  which  cast  a  shadow  over  her  whole  life;  she  was  thrown  from 
a  carriage,  and  one  of  the  wheels  passed  directly  over  her  back.  The  injury 
was  apparently  trifling,  and  not  until  years  afterward  was  it  suspected  that 
the  accident  was  the  cause  of  a  severe  spinal  complaint.  As  a  cloud  no  big- 
ger than  a  man's  hand  increases  until  it  obscures  the  whole  sky,  so  the  deli- 
cate wounded  nerve  of  the  spine  spread  its  infection  above  and  below, 
until  the  whole  column  was  incurably  diseased.  From  her  earliest  youth 
she  loved  God  as  her  Heavenly  Father,  and  in  her  conversation  of  him  she 


180  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

showed  perfect  trust  and  a  realization  of  his  nearness  and  protecting  pres- 
ence. She  never  wearied  in  talking  of  him,  and  was  ever  hegging  her 
mother  to  tell  her  stories  ahout  God  and  Jesus  and  heaven  and  the  angels. 
To  her  unsullied  imagination,  earth  was  hut  a  lower  heaven,  and  all  the  peo- 
ple ahout  her  angels  to  he.  It  was  always  a  perfect  delight  for  her  to  attend 
church.  A  friend  says  of  her,  that  her  feelings  were  too  intense  to  he  nor- 
mal in  their  nature,  or  healthful  in  their  effects;  the  music  and  the  prayer 
often  filled  her  with  ecstasy;  and  when  her  father  preached  upon  some  in- 
spiring theme  she  would  listen  like  one  entranced.  One  day  she  said  to 
her  mother:  "I  think  it  is  the  most  beautiful  thing  in  the  world  to  preach 
about  Jesus.  I  wish  I  were  a  boy,  for  I  want  to  be  a  minister  so  very 
much."  The  spirit  of  her  grandfather,  who  was  a  devout  Universalist,  seemed 
to  speak  through  her,  for  it  was  one  of  the  most  earnest  wishes  of  his  heart 
that  one  of  his  sons  should  preach  the  Gospel  he  so  loved.  But  each  son  in 
turn  disappointed  him  by  entering  some  other  profession,  and  with  quiver- 
ing lips  and  tearful  eyes  he  said  to  his  daughter  Mary  (Minnie's  mother):  "I 
have  prayed  all  my  life  for  a  minister  in  my  family;  and  now  I  have  one — 
but  it  is  a  girl." 

When  the  subject  of  this  sketch  was  about  seven  years  old  her  father  re- 
moved to  the  State  of  Massachusetts,  where  he  became  successively  pastor  of 
the  parishes  in  Hingham,  Quincy  and  Sterling.  About  this  time  there  was  a  re- 
vival in  the  community,  and  Minnie  began  to  realize  that  other  denominations 
preached  very  different  doctrines  than  those  taught  by  her  father.  Her 
young  schoolmates  twitted  her  with  being  a  Universalist,  and  told  her  of  an 
angry  God  and  a  burning  hell.  At  first  she  stood  her  ground,  and  resented 
their  arguments  with  a  good  deal  of  force,  but  as  the  excitement  increased 
her  courage  failed.  She  thought  that  as  so  many  good  peoi)le  believed  such 
dreadful  things  of  God,  her  father  and  mother  might  be  mistaken.  God  per- 
mitted sin  and  suffering  to  exist  here;  might  he  not  let  them  go  on  forever? 
At  last,  one  day,  wrought  to  a  frenzy  of  grief  and  terror,  she  flung  herself 
into  her  mother's  arms,  and  amid  her  sobs  told  her  of  her  doubts  and  fears. 
Was  it  not  well  that  the  father  of  that  sensitive,  frightened  babe  (she  was 
not  much  more  than  that)  preached  the  gospel  of  love,  and  that  the  mother 
had  been  endowed  by  nature  with  a  calm  and   controlling  influence,  which 


.MINNIE     S.     DAVIS.  181 

soon  brought  the  little  one  into  her  normal  condition?  Had  it  been  other- 
wise with  this  highly  organized  child,  the  struggle  must  have  continued  until 
insanity  or  life-long  skepticism  would  have  been  the  result.  As  it  was,  the 
conflict  was  brief;  and  the  sunbeam  shone  upon  her  troubled  heart,  where 
faith  in  the  eternal  goodness  was  planted,  never  to  be  disturbed  again. 

In  her  very  girlhood  she  was  an  artist  in  story-telling.  Nor  were  her 
younger  sisters  slow  in  finding  it  out,  and  they  were  always  interested  and 
delighted  auditors;  indeed,  it  soon  became  their  favorite  pastime  healing 
Minnie  "tell  stories."  Out-door  sports  dwindled  in  attractiveness  to  them  if 
their  sister  would  respond  to — "Tell  us  astory!"  Minnie,  nothing  loth,  would 
immediately  begin;  for  telling  a  story  was  oidy  reading  one  out  of  her  mind. 
A  friend  of  Minnie's,  Mrs.  Newcomb,  of  Detroit,  Mich.,  who  was  an 
amanuensis  for  one  of  her  stories,  says  that  Miss  Davis  rarely  stopped  to 
consider  even  the  subject;  and  the  plot  and  character  would  rise  before  her 
more  rapidly  than  she  could  describe  them.  When  tired,  she  would  say  to 
her  audience, — "Here  ends  the  first  or  second  chapter,"  as  the  case  might  be; 
and  she  would  take  up  the  broken  thread  upon  the  next  occasion  as  though 
no  time  had  intervened.  Some  of  the  stories  were  immensely  popular  with 
not  only  the  sisters  but  other  young  friends,  and  had  to  be  repeated  again 
and  again.  One  of  these — "Rosalie,"  which  was  published  in  1859,  was 
written  through  the  hand  of  an  amanuensis  when  Miss  Davis  was  too  feeble 
to  hold  a  pen,  and  it  gave  solace  to  many  weary  hours  thus  to  review  the 
story  of  her  childhood. 

As  a  child  she  seemed  to  her  friends  all  soul  and  brain.  Her  sister, 
Mrs.  Bissel,  says:  "Although  Minnie  was  but  a  little  more  than  two  years 
older  than  myself,  I  do  not  remember  that  she  ever  joined  in  any  active 
sports.  I  can  remember  distinctly  that  she  was  never  strong  enough  to  ac- 
company me  on  those  long  rambles  that  so  charm  the  days  of  girlhood.  She 
was  the  home-spirit — the  older  daughter  who  knew  how  to  render  to  a  deli- 
cate and  sometimes  overburdened  mother  the  little  services  that  lift  dis- 
couragements from  loving  hearts.  Her  school-days  were  often  interrupted 
by  wreeks  of  illness  or  suffering  from  weak  eyes ;  but  her  classes  did  not  leave 
her  far  behind — for  the  task  of  learning  is  easy  for  one  who  has  a  desire  for 
knowledge,  and  whose  mind  is  not  distracted  by  the  usual  recreations  of 


182  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

young  people.  Her  mother  was  her  constant  teacher;- it  was  from  her  she 
learned  an  abhorrence  of  slavery  and  intemperance.  But  she  would  pity  a 
man  none  the  less  that  he  was  intoxicated;  she  was  not  afraid  of  him,  but 
woidd  defend  him  from  jeers  and  taunts.  I  well  remember,  on  seeing  a 
poor  black  man  leaning  on  a  fence  she  went  up  to  him,  and  asked  if  he  were 
hungry,  and  to  go  home  to  our  house ;  he  was  in  a  fainting  condition  from 
lack  of  food,  and  not  intoxicated  as  the  rude  children  had  supposed.  Our 
mother  always  had  a  kind  word  for  the  unfortunate,  and  hospitality  of  our 
home  is  almost  proverbial.  With  this  to  justify  Minnie's  large-heartedness 
and  sympathy  for  the  wandering  unfortunates  there  is  no  room  to  wonder 
why  my  sister  piloted  into  our  home  the  black,  the  maimed,  the  ragged  and 
intoxicated,  at  all  times.  Before  she  was  old  enough  to  fully  appreciate 
what  a  Home  for  such  poor  creatures  was,  she  used  to  talk  that  when 
she  was  older  she  would  erect  one,  and  put  them  all  in  it,  and  take  care  of 
them;  and  notwithstanding  her  great  physical  suffering,  I  believe  she  would 
be  perfectly  happy  if  she  could  endow  a  Home  for  poor  orphan  children  and 
superintend  it." 

The  devoted  mother  was  taken  early  from  her  family  by  death,  leaving 
five  daughters,  Minnie,  the  eldest,  only  thirteen  years  old,  and  the  youngest, 
Florence,  a  babe  of  three  months.  Though  broken-hearted  by  the  dreadful 
loss,  the  young  girl's  first  thought  was  to  comfort  her  father  and  sisters. 
Henceforth,  from  the  holiest  chamber  of  her  heart,  that  mother,  shrined  and 
sainted,  held  a  power  even  more  potent  than  when  on  earth. 

The  following  is  from  Prof.  J.  S.  Lee,  who,  with  his  wife,  are  esteemed 
and  beloved  friends  of  Miss  Davis,  and  through  whose  influence  she  was 
brought  before  the  public ;  for  she  held  her  own  abilities  at  a  very  modest  esti- 
mate, and  but  for  their  advice  and  encouragement  might  never  have  pub- 
lished a  book. 

"When  some  seventeen  years  of  age,  she  came  to  South  Woodstock, 
Vt.,  and  entered  the  Green  Mountain  Institute,  of  which  I  then  had 
charge.  From  the  first  she  excelled  as  a  scholar  and  a  writer.  She  had  a 
mild,  thoughtful,  sedate  countenance.  She  seemed  matured  beyond  her 
years.  She  was  a  woman  rather  than  a  child,  yet  she  was  child-like  in  dis- 
position.    She  was  social  withal,  and  a  general  favorite  in  the  school.     She 


MINNTF.     S.      DAVIS.  183 

had  the  rare  faculty  of  attracting  all  toward  her  without  being  conscious  of 
it.  She  blended  a  becoming  modesty  with  a  feeling  of  self-confidence  which 
enabled  her  to  maintain  her  opinions,  even  when  antagonistic  to  others,  with- 
out offending  them.  She  was  a  member  of  my  family.  Her  amiable  dispo- 
sition and  geniality  of  spirit  exerted  a  good  influence  over  all  the  members  of 
our  little  circle.  She  liked  children,  and  took  special  interest  in  their  recrea- 
tions and  sports.  She  loved  to  tell  them  simple  stories,  and  frequently  wrote 
little  poems  for  them.  Her  productions  were  models  of  thought  and  grace. 
In  her  studies  she  was  every  way  successful. 

"  After  pursuing  her  studies  for  about  a  year  she  returned  home,  and 
was  soon  engaged  in  teaching.  There  she  was  in  her  peculiar  sphere.  She 
was  so  successful  as  a  teacher  that  her  services  were  sought  far  and  near. 
She  did  not,  like  some,  adhere  strictly  to  a  dull  uniformity,  which  often  tires 
and  disgusts  pupils,  but  she  devised  something  new  and  fresh,  and  thus  suc- 
ceeded in  keeping  up  their  interest  in  the  branches  taught.  No  two  terms 
were  just  alike.  With  her  ingenious  devices  and  expedients  and  her  glowing 
enthusiasm,  which  she  imparted  to  all  under  her  charge,  her  pupils  made 
rapid  progress  in  their  studies.  It  was  a  general  remark  that  no  teacher  in 
the  schools  excelled  her  in  securing  the  fitting  exercise  of  all  the  faculties  of 
the  scholar.  But  she  was  too  enthusiastic  in  her  work,  and  labored  beyond 
her  powers  without  realizing  it  at  first.  Failing  health  compelled  her  to  give 
up  her  charge. 

"  But  she  could  turn  her  powers  into  another  channel.  She  seemed 
'  a  born  writer.'  Her  favorite  topic  was  the  world  of  child-life.  She  had 
already  nearly  completed  a  work  which  was  afterward  published  under  the 
title  of  '  Clinton  Forest;  or,  The  Harvest  of  Love.'  It  treats  of  child-life, 
home  influence,  school  scenes,  the  power  of  kindness  in  the  treatment  of 
children,  the  wanderings  and  trials  of  the  child,  the  joys  and  sorrows  of  life, 
and  the  final  good  fortune  of  the  wanderer.  It  is  a  book  full  of  the  true 
gospel  spirit,  and  in  harmony  with  the  faith  in  which  we  believe.  No  mem- 
ber of  the  family  circle  can  read  it  without  being  made  better,  though  it  was 
designed  primarily  for  children.  The  author  was  only  eighteen  years  old 
when  this  book  was  finished — the  same  age  as  that  of  Bryant  when  he  wrote 
the  '  Thanatopsis.'      She  did  not  dare  to  publish  it,  or  hardly  show  it  to  her 


184  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

friends  to  get  their  opinion  of  it;  but  she  made  another  and  higher  effort. 
One  day  I  was  talking  with  her  father  about  my  experience  as  a  student  in 
an  orthodox  coUege,  and  the  trials  which  I  underwent  there.  I  had  for  sev- 
eral years  been  a  teacher  in  liberal  schools,  and  knew  something  of  the  con- 
trast between  the  two  classes  of  schools.  I  suggested  that  his  daughter  take 
this  as  the  subject  of  another  work.  She  took  the  suggestion,  and  in  due 
season  completed  the  manuscript  of  '  Marion  Lester;  or,  The  Mother's  Mis- 
take.' The  mistake  of  the  mother  consisted  in  sending  her  daughter  to  the 
school  where  religious  error  required  a  severe  form  of  discipline.  The  plot 
was  entirely  the  author's.  Some  of  the  characters  were  taken  from  real  life 
and  some  were  drawn  from  the  imagination.  All  are  admirably  and  consist- 
ently worked  out,  and  made  to  fill  their  appropriate  spheres.  This  is  a 
remarkable  feature  of  the  work  written  by  one  so  young  and  with  so  little 
experience  of  the  world.  It  is  a  healthy  book,  full  of  warning  and  advice, 
timely  and  wholesome.  I  looked  over  the  manuscript,  and  found  little  to 
correct  or  amend.  I  advised  her  to  publish  it.  She  prepared  it  for  the  press, 
and  in  May,  1856,  sent  it  forth,  a  'fragile  bark,'  as  she  calls  it,  'upon  the 
literary  sea  already  teeming  with  ten  thousand  lights.'  It  was  a  success. 
The  book  was  read  with  intense  interest  by  thousands,  and  it  did  much  to 
correct  the  mistake  of  sending  sons  and  daughters  to  schools  where  their 
religious  opinions  are  treated  with  ridicule  and  contempt.  It  has  become  'a 
classic'  in  our  denomination. 

"  Three  years  after  this  book  was  published,  '  Clinton  Forest,'  previously 
written,  was  issued  from  the  press,  and  also  had  a  large  sale.  No  one  can 
measure  the  influence  of  two  such  works.  They  are  an  honor  not  only  to 
the  gifted  author  but  to  the  denomination  to  which  she  belongs,  and  a  bless- 
ing to  the  world.  The  world  has  been  the  gainer  through  the  power  of  her 
pen.  Would  that  she  might  again  take  it  up  and  send  forth,  as  formerly,  her 
delightful  poems  and  charming  stories  depicting  the  brighter  scenes  of  every- 
day life!" 

Before  the  publication  of  "  Marion  Lester"  she  had  not  published  more 
than  half  a  dozen  articles.  From  that  time  on  she  became  a  frequent  con- 
tributor to  the  "  Trumpet,"  "  Christian  Freeman,"  and  local  papers.  At  one 
time  she  contributed  to  a  paper  published  in  Philadelphia  by  Hiram  Torrey. 


MINNIE    S.    DAVIS.  185 

For  a  long  time  she  was  a  regular  contributor  to  the  "  Ladies'  Repository," 
and  for  five  years  was  associate  editor  with  Mrs.  Sawyer  and  Mrs.  Soule.  In 
1853  she  removed  with  her  father's  family  to  Hartford,  Conn.  Although  her 
health  was  very  feeble,  she  had  high  hopes  of  usefulness  and  happiness. 
She  anticipated  much  under  the  wider  opportunities  offered  by  the  cultivated 
city  of  Hartford ;  but  these  hopes  were  never  to  be  realized ;  for,  though  she 
struggled  bravely  with  advancing  disease,  in  a  few  months  she  was  obliged 
to  relinquish  all — church,  Sunday-school,  society,  books  and  pen.  Her  disease 
rendered  her  nearly  helpless  and  partially  blind.  After  a  period  of  extreme 
suffering  she  rallied  sufficiently  to  be  able  to  sit  up  a  portion  of  the  time  and 
to  walk  about  the  house.  At  times  she  was  strong  enough  to  ride  short  dis- 
tances, and  at  rarer  intervals  she  could  walk  out  in  the  open  air;  but  she  has 
never  been  able  to  take  up  any  of  the  active  duties  of  life. 

Mrs.  A.  A.  Ellis,  a  friend  of  many  years,  communicates  the  following: 
"  Wearisome  days  prolonged  into  years — months  when  she  could  not 
stand  alone  or  walk — and  then  nursed  into  convalescence.  All  one  long, 
dreary  Winter  she  was  kept  in  a  darkened  room  with  her  eyes  closely  covered, 
not  enduring  a  ray  of  light,  and  suffering  most  intensely.  And  with  aU  this 
pain  and  suffering  and  blindness,  with  it  all  there  came  such  a  longing  to 
use  the  pen  and  to  pour  out  her  soul  in  one  long  poem.  One  of  the  best 
poems  she  ever  gave  utterance  to  was  like  the  'Nightingale  Sang  Darkling;' 
and  the  spirit  of  tmrest  and  of  waiting  (although  waiting  is  not  always 
idleness,  only  resting  for  greater  maturity  of  plan  and  purpose),  which 
required  such  unparalleled  patience  to  endure,  and  such  a  spirit  of  faith  as 
martyrs  have  exemplified,  and  as  the  Master  gave  us  in  the  garden  of  Geth- 
semane.  And  such  a  spirit  our  friend  has  evinced  — '  Not  my  will  but  thine 
be  done.'  Miss  Davis'  books  and  writings  had  just  begun  to  be  known  and 
accepted  by  the  believers  of  the  Universaliat  Church,  and  she  has  received 
many  very  flattering  notices  through  the  press,  and  personal  letters  from 
friends  who  had  never  seen  her.  One  well  said  of  her,  that  her  name  was  a 
familiar  '  household  word.'  All  through  her  books  or  her  Sunday-school 
dramas,  of  which  she  wrote  many,  there  shone  through  them  all,  like  a  sil- 
ver thread,  a  loving,  consecrated  spirit  which  has  led  many  to  accept  of  that 
faith  which  teaches  that  God  is  the  father  of  all,  full  of  love  and  tendernes. 

13 


186  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

and  care  over  all  his  children;  supporting  and  comforting  them  through  all 
the  trials  and  sorrows  of  this  life,  and  giving  them  an  ahundant  entrance  in- 
to that  'house  of  many  mansions.'  " 

Content  Whipple,  who  was  a  friend  of  Miss  Davis,  but  who  has  entered 
the  higher  life,  in  a  letter  mentions  the  fear  she  felt,  on  receiving  a  letter 
from  her  one  day,  not  in  her  own  handwriting,  and  says:  "My  fears  were 
realized ;  but  the  cheerful  tone  of  your  letter  convinced  me  that  though  suf- 
fering in  body  you  still  retain  your  beautiful  jjatience  and  fortitude  of  spirit. 
When  I  try  to  express  my  feelings  in  regard  to  your  sickness,  I  can  find  no 
words  to  do  them  justice.  When  I  think  of  your  patience  and  cheerfulness 
under  such  great  affliction,  I  feel  condemned  for  every  impatient  word  or  act 
in  my  life.  May  God  in  his  infinite  mercy  restore  you  some  time  to  an 
enjoyable  state  of  health!     It  is  my  prayer  day  and  night." 

The  following  is  from  the  "Gospel  Banner,"  by  Eev.  Charles  A.  Skinner, 
after  reading  "A  Beautiful  Spirit,"  by  Mrs.  Julia  Crouch  Culver: 

"There  is  one  of  our  lady  writers  to  whom  the  denomination  is  largely 
indebted  for  some  of  the  sweetest  lessons  it  has  had  set  for  its  learning.  But 
those  who  have  not  known  her  nersonally  have  missed  a  sweeter  lesson  than 
was  ever  pictured  by  her  pen— have  missed  the  lesson  of  patience,  quiet  sub- 
mission and  holy  trust.  For  some  time  we  have  had  no  contribution  from 
her  pen ;  and  some  who  do  not  know  may  perhaps  inquire, — 'Where  is  Min- 
nie Davis?  Why  do  we  not  hear  from  her  as  we  did  in  former  years?  Has 
she  forsaken  us,  or  has  her  love  grown  cold?'  Neither  of  these.  It  is  all 
explained  in  that  one  sad  word — invalid.  But  though  she  does  not  write, 
she  preaches  every  day  to  all  who  know  her,  of  patience  and  submission  and 
trust.  The  following  truthful  tribute,  taken  from  the  'Norwich  Bulletin,'  says 
too  little  rather  than  too  much  in  its  eulogy : 

"  'A  Beautiful  Spiiut. — When  I  sit  at  my  desk,  with  the  stillness  of  a 
quiet  room  about  me,  there  rises  up  before  me  that  sweet,  beautiful  woman 
in  one  of  Hartford's  quiet  homes.  To  meet  Miss  Davis  once, causes  you  to 
crave  another  meeting ;  to  know  her  well,  causes  you  to  love  and  reverence 
her,  to  never  forget  her,  and  to  feel  the  blessedness  of  her  influence  forever. 
All  day  she  sits  in  her  easy  chair — an  invalid  -where  she  has  sat  for  many 
long  and  painful  years;  sits  with  her  white  hands  folded,  hands  that  long  to 


MINNIE    S.    DAVIS.  187 

■wield  the  pen  as  once  they  did,  folded  softly  together,  never  telling  how  they 
long  to  work,  hut  suggestive  only  of  patience  and  submission.  The  children 
of  a  few  years  hack  know  her  through  her  beautiful  books,  some  of  which  were 
written  entirely  by  an  amanuensis.  Many  men  and  women  know  her  also 
through  books  written  for  minds  of  a  larger  growth;  but  few  of  them  know 
through  what  exertion  and  suffering  they  were  written;  and  only  those  who 
know  her  personally  can  appreciate  her  pure  soul,  which  is  set  in  jewels  the 
most  beautiful  the  earth  contains.  Uncomplaining  and  patient,  she  waits  on 
and  on;  suffering  constantly,  worse  than  blind,  her  eyes  giving  her  pain  in- 
stead of  sight. 

"  'You  think  of  her,  of  what  she  has  done  even  in  her  weakness,  and 
what  she  might  do  if  she  had  your  strength;  and  your  own  trials,  and  the 
obstacles  which  seemed  like  mountains  in  your  path,  float  off  in  the  air  like 
bubbles ;  you  feel  your  nerves  growing  steadier,  and  your  arm  stronger,  and 
you  feel  that  yon  can  struggle  in  the  arena  of  life  with  the  dauntless  spirit  of 
the  gladiator. 

"  'And  so  that  beautiful  spirit,  almost  ripe  for  heaven,  strengthens  you 
with  her  weakness,  helps  you  with  her  helplessness,  and  softens  and  purifies 
your  heart  with  her  habitual  patience  and  sweet  submission. 

"  'Ah!  Minnie,  Minnie,  you  know  not  as  you  sit  in  your  easy  chair,  help- 
less, longing  to  labor  in  the  dear  Master's  vineyard,  how  much  you  are  doing 
for  your  friends;  how  you  are  helping  and  strengthening  them;  and  how  you 
are  drawing  them  nearer  the  beauty  and  purity  of  a  sinless  world,  where  at 
last  you  will  find  a  surcease  for  ah  your  sufferings.'  " 

In  the  year  18G9  a  great  sorrow  fell  upon  the  family  in  the  death  of 
Florence,  at  the  age  of  nineteen  years.  She  was  lovely  in  mind  and  person, 
and  possessed  a  sparkling  wit,  which  bubbled  over  in  the  most  charming  say- 
ings. She  was  the  light  of  the  home,  and  the  joy  and  pride  of  her  invalid 
sister.     Her  death  caused  a  wound  which  time  can  never  wholly  heal. 

At  this  time  a  group  of  young  sisters  was  growing  up  around  her — the 
children  of  her  father's  second  marriage.  She  took  the  greatest  interest  in 
their  education.  She  constituted  herself  their  home  instructor,  and  sought 
to  forai  their  taste  in  reading.  When  suffering  most,  even  when  confined  in 
a  darkened  room,  she  never  wholly  relinquished  the  pleasant  task.     They,  in 


188  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

turn,  became  her  readers  and  amanuenses ;  indeed,  she  feels  that  she  owes 
much  to  their  sweet  companionship  and  this  constant  exercise  of  her  mental 
faculties. 

Miss  Davis  is  interested  in  all  true  reforms  and  in  the  educational 
questions  of  the  day.  Though  feehng  her  afflictions  keenly,  she  is  usually 
cheerful  and  serene;  but  sometimes  the  yearning  to  be  "up  and  doing"  is  so 
strong  that  a  deep  sadness  faUs  upon  her  spirit.  She  is  firm  in  the  faith 
that  God's  work  will  be  done — that  he  will  never  lack  the  ministers  to  fulfill 
his  high  behests;  and  she  comforts  herself  with  the  thought  that  "they  also 

SERVE  WHO  ONLY  STAND  AND  WAIT." 

The  following  poem  was  composed  after  the  author  had  been  confined 
in  a  dark  room,  suffering  greatly : 

THE    COMFORTER. 

The  spirit  whispered  to  my  soul, 

Cast  down  with  doubt  and  fear, 
"Thy  broken  heart  shall  yet  be  whole. 

The  Comforter  is  near." 

"Rut  what  can  give  this  pain  surcease?  " 

Cried  my  rebellious  will, 
When  Jesus  gently  answered,  "Peacel" 

And  lo,  the  storm  was  still ! 

"Rut  it  is  cold  and  dark,"  I   said, 

"I  can  not  see  the  way; 
My  soul  is  hungering  for   bread 

And  is  athirst  alway." 

How  sweet  the  answer,  "I  will  bless 

The  blind  and  give  them   sight. 
I  am  the  Bread  of  righteousness. 

I   am  the  Life   and   Light." 

"But  I  am  weary.  Lord,"  I  cried, 

"Willi  such  a  cross  opprestl " 
"Come  unto  me,"  he  then  replied, 

"And  I  will  give  thee  rest!" 

In  tears  I  said,  beneath  my  breath, 

"My  loved  are  torn  from  me, 
And  trembles  by  the  river  Death, 

My  poor  mortality  1" 


OT 


HENRIETTA   A.  BINfiTIAM. 


HENRIETTA  A.  BINGHAM.  189 

Let  not   thy  heart   be  troubled  more, 

Fair  is   the   house   of  God! 
To  where  thy  loved  have  gone  before 
I'll  hear  thee  through  the  flood." 

Blest  Jesus,  take   me,  I  am  thine! 

The   veil    is   rent   apart. 
Won  by  such  graciousness  divine. 

My  refuge  is  thine  heart, 

Where  I  can  rest  upon  thy  love 

Through  cold,  and  storm,  and  night. 
And  trust  God's  righteousness  to  prove 

In  happiness  and  light! 


HENRIETTA  A.  BINGHAM. 

The  thought  of  giving  a  sketch  of  Henrietta  Bingham's  life  compels  a 
feeling  of  great  tenderness  in  my  mind,  and  it  would  almost  seem  that  even 
the  paper  must  he  touched  lightly,  and  her  name  tenderly  traced;  for  no 
woman  was  ever  more  solicitous  for  the  Christian  influence  of  our  church, 
and  no  one  ever  fulfilled  her  duty  more  truly  than  did  she.  But  I  shall  not 
dwell  upon  the  sweetness  of  her  disposition  or  the  features  of  her  literary 
character.  This  will  he  done  hy  those  who  have  known  her  long  and  inti- 
mately, Rev.  Dr.  Atwood,  one  of  the  most  accomplished  of  literary  critics, 
and  a  master  of  "English  undefiled":  and  Hattie  Tyng  Griswold,  a  writer 
whose  pure  and  elegant  prose  is  only  surpassed  by  her  melodious  verse. 
Their  just  and  eloquent  characterizations  photograph  the  rare  and  beautiful 
spirit  so  perfectly  that  it  only  remains  for  me,  with  the  assistance  of  her 
brothers,  to  give  the  outlines  of  her  biography,  and  her  yearnings,  aspirations 
and  achievements. 

Henrietta  Adelaide  Burringtoij  was  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  second 
wife.  By  the  first  marriage  of  Henrietta's  father  there  were  three  children, 
Rosalie  Martha  (Hall);  Lindley  Murray,  a  clergyman  in  our  denomination; 
and    John  Quincy  Adams.     By  the  second  marriage,  with  Louisa   Chapin 


190  OUB    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Rice,  there  were  four  children,  Howard  Rice ;  Lorenzo  Lester,  Professor  at 
Dean  Academy;  Solon  Orville,  who  was  Henrietta's  nearest  brother  in  age, 
and  was  with  her  during  her  last  illness,  and  was  to  her  a  kind  and 
ever- watchful  physician  and  tender  nurse ;  and  Henrietta,  the  youngest  and 
pet.  Mrs.  Hall  died  in  Gaylord,  Mich.,  March  28th,  at  about  the  age  of 
fifty-five.  She  was  a  noble  Christian  woman.  Her  husband,  who  survives 
her,  was  literally  a  hero  of  many  battles  in  our  late  war.  The  eldest  child 
(Lindley  M.)  of  Mr.  Burrington's  first  marriage,  says  of  Henrietta's  mother: 
"She  was  a  woman  of  far  more  than  average  ability  and  intelligence,  and  of 
no  mean  literary  attainments.  As  I  recall  her  she  was  a  very  dignified  and 
refined  lady.  There  was  a  charm  about  her  which  made  her  advent  in  our 
home  an  occasion  never  to  be  forgotten.  I  recall  vividly  my  first  impression 
of  her,  then  a  child  of  seven;  and  the  kind,  cordial  manner  of  her  reception  of 
the  three  motherless  children  conciliated  them  in  a  moment,  and  made  an 
impression  deep  and  lasting,  so  that  she  has  a  place  in  their  hearts  to-day 
hardly  second  to  that  of  their  own  sainted  mother. "  A  beautiful  tribute  from  a 
step-son,  who  knows  whereof  he  affirms,  and  who  further  says:  "Of  this 
dear  mother  we  have  no  picture,  but  Henrietta  bore  a  remarkable  resemblance 
to  her.  Especially  did  I  observe  this  as  our  dear  sister  lay  upon  her  death- 
bed. They  were  wonderfully  alike  also  in  their  mental  characteristics,  and 
especially  in  the  features  of  that  deeper  spirituality,  which  was  marked  in 
both.  And  when  this  dear  step-mother  left  us,  our  home  was  darkened  by 
a  great  sorrow,  and  we  all  remember  her  with  the  tenderest  of  affection  as 
the  years  come  and  go."  We  wish  we  had  space  for  the  entire  beautiful  let- 
ter of  this  step-son,  who  seems  anxious  to  pay  a  tender  tribute  to  the  many 
virtues  and  accomplishments  of  the  mother  of  the  subject  of  this  sketch. 

Henrietta  was  born  Dec.  21),  1841;  and  her  mother,  who  had  been  so 
tender  and  kind  to  the  motherless  three  she  took  into  her  heart,  died  and 
left  four  little  ones  (Henrietta  but  one  year  old)  to  be  cared  for  by  whom  she 
knew  not.  But  Henrietta  nestled  into  the  heart  of  her  half-sister  as  naturally 
as  if  she  belonged  there.  She  was  gentle  and  easily  managed,  and  all  went 
well  for  eight  years,  after  which  the  father  married;  and  soon  after  the  be- 
loved sister  married  and  left  home.      Henrietta  never  ceased  pining  for  this. 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  l'.il 

si>tcr  until  she  became  a  woman  grown,  and  she  had  a  .strong  attachment  for 
her  to  the  day  of  her  death. 

Henrietta  was  a,  very  precocious  child.  She  learned  t<>  read  b<  tore  she 
was  five,  and  her  brother  Lester  says  she  was  always  classed  with  those  older 
than  herself,  and  invariably  stood  at  the  head  of  her  class.  It  was  quite 
often,  galling  to  her  older  brothers,  who  prided  themselves  on  good  scholar- 
ship, to  have  Henrietta  in  their  classes,  and  especially  so  when  she  had  suc- 
ceeded in  solving  some  difficult  prohlern,  or  unraveling  some  knotty  con- 
struction in  Milton's  "Paradise  Lost,"  which  they  had  failed  to  fathom. 
When  a  child,  even,  she  was  a  great  reader,  and  eagerly  devoured  every  book 
she  could  get  hold  of.  Indeed,  reading  was  her  greatest  fault  in  those  days, 
and  she  probably  received  more  correction  for  reading  while  at  work  than 
for  all  other  offenses  put  together;  the  greatest  complaint  of  her  step-mother 
was  that  "her head  was  always  in  a  book."  Her  opportunities  for  reading 
were  not  great.  Her  father,  being  a  farmer,  had  hut  few  books,  and  there 
was  no  public  library  in  the  town;  so  her  only  resort  was  borrowing 
from  her  neighbors,  which  she  indulged  in  quite  freely.  At  the  age  of  thirteen 
years  she  taught  her  first  school,  and  achieved  unusual  success.  She  was 
quite  fond  of  teaching  at  this  time  in  her  life,  and  devoted  a  part  of  every 
year  (the  Summer)  to  that  work,  until  her  school  education  was  finished.  It 
was  during  these  years  that  she  began  to  develop  a  literary  talent.  She 
amused  herself  during  her  leisure  hours  by  writing  little  stories  and  sending 
them  to  her  schoolmates  to  read,  and  occasionally  wrote  a  little  poem  for 
their  amusement.  She  was  very  shy  in  regard  to  these  productions,  and 
would  never  let  her  older  brothers  or  any  member  of  the  family  see  them. 

At  sixteen  she  left  home  to  attend  school  at  South  Woodstock,  Vt.  Her 
oldest  brother,  as  he  became  of  age,  had  taken  a  portion  of  his  first  year's 
earnings  and  gone  there  to  school.  He  sent  home  such  glowang  accounts  of 
the  school,  and  entertained  such  high  hopes  of  a  liberal  education,  that  Hen- 
rietta, began  to  lay  similar  plans  for  her  future.  When  the  second  brother- 
was  making  arrangements  to  go  to  South  Woodstock,  she  urged  him  to  take 
her  with  him;  and  as  she  was  not  happy  at  home,  and  her  father  thought  he 
could  not  help  her  any,  her  brothers  determined  to  educate  her,  and  she  was 


192  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

sent  to  South  Woodstock.  Here  she  spent  the  happiest  days  of  her  Hie  She 
was  a  careful  and  earnest  student,  and  took  great  delight  in  her  work  Her 
early  love  for  reading  was  here  allowed  full  scope.  Her  progress  vas  rapid 
and  thorough,  and  she  often  astonished  her  teachers  by  the  ease  with  which 
she  could  master  the  higher  mathematics  and  the  French  language.  She 
soon  began  to  show  unmistakable  signs  of  literary  ability.  Here  ;;he  wrote 
many  pieces,  both  in  prose  and  in  verse,  intended  for  school  ei  says,  but 
which  afterward  found  their  way  into  the  public  prints.  Here  also  she 
formed  the  strongest  attachments  of  her  hfe.  Being  mature  in  thought, 
though  young  in  years,  she  early  became  the  intimate  friend  of  hei  teachers, 
and  came  to  be  regarded  by  them  as  an  equal,  rather  than  a  pupil;  and 
she  entered  so  heartily  into  the  plans  and  sympathies  of  her  schoolmates, 
that  she  became  a  universal  favorite.  After  having  completed  the  full  course 
of  study  at  this  school  she  became  its  preceptress,  and  fulfilled  the  duties 
devolving  upon  her  with  marked  success. 

During  these  terms,  however,  she  began  to  feel  that  her  line  of  duty  did 
not  lie  in  this  direction.  She  had  imbibed  such  a  strong  love  for  purely  literary 
work  that  she  determined  to  make  that  her  occupation.  Accordingly,  in  the 
Fall  of  1862  she  set  out  for  Boston,  determined  to  spend  the  following  Winter 
there  in  some  sort  of  literary  occupation.  She  soon  found  employment  in 
the  Universalist  Publishing  House  for  a  part  of  her  time,  and  occupied  the 
remainder  in  study.  That  Winter  she  was  wont  to  consider  the  most  profit- 
able of  her  early  hfe,  because  it  gave  to  her  the  most  ample  opportunities. 
She  embraced  every  occasion  that  came  within  her  means  to  hear  lectures, 
concerts,  readings,  and  to  attend  gatherings  of  every  description.  She  was 
very  kindly  received  into  Boston  society,  and  succeeded  in  rubbing  off  a  good 
deal  of  what  she  was  pleased  to  call  the  rough  corners.  In  the  following 
Spring  she  received  news  from  her  half-sister,  Mrs.  Hall,  then  living  in  Ohio, 
that  her  family  was  sick  and  needed  her  assistance.  She  immediately 
started  on  her  errand  of  mercy,  and  found,  on  arriving  at  her  sister's  home, 
two  of  her  four  children  very  sick  with  typhoid  fever,  and  their  father  in  the 
army  of  Tennessee,  fighting  the  battles  of  his  country.  Before  the  children 
had  passed  beyond  the  danger-point  of  their  sickness,  the  mother  was  taken 
down.      Henrietta,    found   herself   equal    to   the  task,    and    with    the   aid    of 


HENRIETTA    A      BINGHAM.  198 

neighbors  and  friends  brought  them  all  safely  through.  When  the  mother 
was  convalescent,  and  anxiety  was  gone,  Henrietta  was  stricken  with  the 
terrible  fever.  Her  illness  was  long  and  painful,  her  life  being  despaired  of 
for  many  days,  and  her  recovery  was  very  slow,  and  her  health  was  broken. 
She  never  after  became  the  strong  and  healthy  woman  that  she  was 
before.  When  the  family  had  quite  recovered,  and  her  services  were  no 
longer  needed,  she  began  to  look  around  for  some  employment,  as  her  sick- 
ness had  greatly  reduced  her  little  store  of  means.  Her  wants  being  made 
known  to  her  friends,  she  was  very  soon  employed  as  preceptress  of  the  pre- 
paratory department  of  St.  Lawrence  University,  in  which  place  she  was  a 
successful  teacher.  And  it  was  here  that  she  formed  the  acquaintance 
which  resulted  in  her  marriage  with  Henry  L.  Bingham,  March  29,  1866,  a 
theological  student  in  St.  Lawrence  University.  Her  husband  was  in  feeble 
health  at  the  time,  and  no  mother  was  ever  more  tender  of  an  infant  child 
than  Henrietta  of  her  husband.  Her  love  for  him  grew  day  by  day  to  the 
time  of  his  death.  After  five  brief  months,  September  5,  1866,  death  broke 
the  silver  cord  that  held  these  loving  ones  together,  and  the  young  heart  was 
destined  to  pursue  the  remainder  of  hfe's  journey  alone. 

A  memorial  sermon  was  preached  in  Clinton,  N.  Y.,  by  Rev.  W.  P. 
Payne,  who  paid  a  high  tribute  to  the  worth  of  Mr.  Bingham, saying:  "He 
was  modest  and  unassuming,  deferential  almost  to  a  fault,  yet  I  never  met 
a  young  man  in  whom  I  had  greater  confidence  than  in  him.  I  felt  that  he 
stood  on  a  firm  foundation — that  he  was  incorruptible ;  and  that,  whatever 
Providence  might  have  in  store  for  him  of  prosperity  or  adversity,  of  joy  or 
sorrow,  of  tribulations  or  triumphs,  he  would  leave  as  a  precious  legacy  to 
friends  and  to  the  world  an  unspotted  and  beautiful  record."  This  young 
man  of  talent  and  Christian  grace  was  Henrietta's  husband.  She  survived 
him  ten  years  and  six  months,  always  true  to  his  love  and  memory. 

Mrs.  Bingham  was  enfeebled  long  before  any  outward  sign  appeared, 
but  she  persisted  in  her  literary  work  until  her  strength  was  nearly  spent, 
before  she  decided  to  go  to  the  loved  and  loving  home  of  the  parents  of  her 
husband)  in  Columbus,  Wis.  She  reached  this  haven  of  rest  March  12.1875. 
No  sudden  change  came,  but  a  gradual  decay  commenced.  She  was  an 
idolized  child  in  that   home,  and  she   clung  to  the  love  of  those  who  were 


194  OUE    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

parents  indeed,  as  though  it  were  life  to  her;  and  their  love  supported  her  to 
the  last,  showing  itself  in  most  patient  watchings,  in  eager,  anxious  looks, 
and  tenderest  care.  Not  until  late  Autumn  did  it  become  a  settled  certainty 
to  those  saintly  parents  that  ah  that  was  left  to  them  was  slipping  out  of  this 
life. 

Of  her  spiritual  meditations  during  her  last  months  we  get  glimpses 
from  her  sick  bed,  from  one  of  our  Sisters  of  Charity,  Mrs.  M.  G.  Todd,  and 
from  others  who  watched  with  her.  Once  she  said,  "Formidable  mount- 
ains loom  up  in  my  way  sometimes,  but  when  I  close  my  eyes  I  can  see  the 
plains  beyond,  the  flowers  and  sunshine,  and  sometimes  his  face."  To  the 
dear  parents,  one  day,  near  the  close,  she  said,  "Sit  by  me,  mother  and 
father;  nothing  can  help  me  through  like  your  love."  And  so  this  father 
and  mother,  anxious  to  respond  to  every  look  of  their  dear  child,  would  for- 
get everything  else,  and  employ  all  devices  to  soothe  and  comfort  their  only 
treasure.  She  had  become  a  part  of  themselves,  and  their  devotion  to  her 
was  divinely  beautiful.  Her  eyes  seldom  wandered  from  them  when  they 
were  by.  One  day  she  said  to  a  watcher,  "Their  love  has  given  me  the 
greatest  possible  happiness  in  these  days  of  sickness."  Weaker  and  weaker 
grew  the  patient  sufferer.  When  the  change  came,  it  was  like  a  cloud  pass- 
ing over  her  large,  kind,  wistful  eyes.  Just  before  she  died,  when  her  active 
brain  had  begun  to  wander,  a  friend  mentioned  her  husband,  and  at  once  the 
cloud  lifted  from  her  mind,  and  clearly  but  slowly  she  repeated,  "He  giveth 
his  beloved  sleep."  And  on  Feb.  18,  1877,  she  "fell  on  sleep,"  leaving  a 
beautiful  and  unfading  record  to  testify  that  she  has  been  and  wrought,  and 
now  has  gone  to  higher  spheres  of  labor. 

Rev.  Dr.  I.  M.  Atwood  says :  "It  is  four  years  to-day  since  this  strong 
and  beautiful  spirit  forsook  its  earthly  house.  It  is  of  sufficient  interest  to 
mention,  perhaps,  that  after  deferring,  for  one  cause  or  another  several 
months,  the  task  of  writing  a  sketch  of  her  for  this  book,  we  sit  down,  by 
chance,  to  the  work  on  the  anniversary  of  her  death.  Four  years  is  no  incon- 
sidefable  fraction  of  our  mortal  sojourn,  and  the  fact  that  such  a  period  has 
slipped  by  since  our  friend  left  us,  while  her  presence  pervades  recollection 
as  if  she  had  only  slipped  out  for  an  afternoon  call,  suggests  at  once  how 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGBAMj  195 

soon  we  shall  all  be  across  the  flood,  and  how  indelible  is  the  impress  of  a 
fine  and  original  nature. 

"It  would  be  most  easy,  as  well  as  most  natural,  to  dwell  on  her  per- 
sonal traits,  since  these  are  what  endeared  her  to  her  friends,  and  what  recall 
her  most  vividly  to  memory.  Bui  Mrs.  Bingham  secures  a  place  in  this  gal- 
lery of  mental  portraits  rather  on  account  of  her  genius  and  puhlic  service 
than  because  she  shared  with  other  women  in  the  qualities  that  attract 
friends.  To  her  character  and  career  as  a  writer  this  sketch  must  be  chiefly 
devoted. 

"Her  person  was  tall  and  slight,  her  movements  deliberate,  her  manner 
hesitating;  a  good  head,  crowned  with  dark  brown  hair;  blue-gray  eyes, 
large  and  studious;  a  cast  of  features  indicative  of  sensibility  rather  than 
power;  just  a  shade  of  melancholy  on  her  face  in  repose,  which  quickly  gave 
place  to  varying  expression  in  conversation;  a  good  listener,  attentive,  appre- 
ciative, anticipatory,  and  when  it  came  her  turn  to  talk,  grafting  on  with 
ease  her  own  thought;  addicted  to  musing,  but  prompt  to  accept  a  challenge 
for  debate;  grave  and  thoughtful  one  hour,  a  very  girl  the  next — such  are 
some  of  the  more  prominent  traces  of  her  personality  lingering  in  our  recol- 
lection. 

"The  circumstances  of  our  making  her  acquaintance,  and  of  her  intro- 
duction to  the  general  public,  we  sketched  a  few  days  after  her  death,  and  we 
can  not  hope  to  do  better  than  reproduce  it  here.  Some  time  in  the  Fall  of 
1808  wre  received  at  the  office  of  the  'Universalist,'  Boston,  the  manuscript 
of  a  poem  read  before  one  of  the  literary  societies  of  St.  Lawrence  University. 
It  had  not  been  folded  with  care  by  the  young  man  who  sent  it  to  us  for  pub- 
lication, and  it  arrived  in  a  badly  crumpled  and  forlorn  condition.  Our 
prejudices  were  aroused  against  it  at  sight.  Its  length  was  another  circum- 
stance that  sealed  up  our  sympathies;  and  it  was  several  days  before  wTe  sum- 
moned courage  to  attack  it.  When  at  Length  we  began  the  reading  of  the 
poem  a  new  sensation  awoke.  Here,  unquestionably,  was  merit  of  no  com- 
mon sort.  A  certain  subtile  penetration  allured  the  mind  of  the  appreciative 
reader,  while  the  inascidine  strength  of  the  thought,  and  the  careful  finish 
of  the  verse,  put  the  stamp  of  high  value  on  the  production.     The  interest 


196  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

awakened  by  this  poem  led  ns  to  make  inquiries  about  the  author,  of  whom 
we  had  heard  little.  The  agent  of  the  Publishing  House  informed  us  that 
the  author  of  the  poem",  Mrs.  H.  A.  Bingham,  was  also  the  author  of  'Mign- 
onette,' one  of  the  'Prize  Series'  of  stories  published  by  the  house.  We  took 
up  that  little  book  for  the  first  time,  and  found  in  it  the  same  strong  lines  of 
power  we  had  traced  in  the  poem.  Toward  the  close  of  that  year  Mrs. 
Bingham,  by  invitation  of  the  agent  of  the  Publishing  House,  came  to  Bos- 
ton, and  in  the  January  following  became  editor  of  the  'Ladies'  Kepository.' 
During  the  five  years  that  she  conducted  that  magazine  she  made  for  herself 
a  literary  record  that  woidd  honor  the  brightest  name  in  our  church.  To  a 
wide  and  high  range  of  thought,  she  added  delicacy,  warmth  and  graceful 
humor.  Her  work  on  that  periodical  was  of  the  best  quality  throughout. 
She  was  too  conscientious  to  slight  any  part  of  it.  We  have  re-examined 
nearly  all  the  numbers  from  January,  18G9,  down  to  the  suspension  of  the 
magazine;  and  the  high  opinion  we  had  of  the  character  of  her  work 
as  it  was  produced,  has  been  more  than  confirmed.  The  aggregate  of  her 
editorial  labor  was  large.  She  resorted  to  no  devices  to  fill  space  and  save 
honest  labor.  It  is  her  own  work,  without  padding  or  poaching ;  and  in  qual- 
ity it  suffers  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  best  work  of  its  kind.  As  a 
gentleman  of  high  culture  and  fastidious  taste  once  said  to  us,  'The  'Repos- 
itory' editorials  are  surprisingly  able.  They  would  do  honor  to  any  writer, 
man  or  woman.' 

"It  was  during  the  comparatively  brief  period  of  her  editorship  that  she 
made  her  record  as  a  writer.  But  no  one  comes  suddenly  into  literary  estate. 
However  it  may  be  in  other  fields,  here  we  earn  our  inheritance.  And  Mrs. 
Bingham  was  long  acquiring  the  art  and  mastery  which  at  length  marked 
her  out  for  succession  in  the  line  with  Julia  Scott,  Sarah  Edgarton,  Mrs. 
Bacon,  Caroline  M.  Sawyer  and  Nancy  T.  Munroe.  A  manuscript  volume, 
containing  pieces  written  at  intervals  from  the  age  of  sixteen  until  she  took 
charge  of  the  'Repository,'  bears  witness  to  the  long  and  diligent  preparation 
to  which  her  powers  were  subjected.  Mind  history  and  heart  history  are 
here  photographed  by  an  unconscious  artist,  and  we  see,  as  we  turn  the  leaves 
of  the  little  book  chosen  for  her  girlhood  rhymes,  how  her  intellect  opened 
and  her  faculty  grew.     The  two  marked  traits  of  her  maturest  literary  work, 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  107 

thoughtftdness  and  grace,  appear  very  early.  It  was  her  good  fortune  that 
she  did  not  make  rhymes  easily.  Had  she  possessed  the  fatal  facility  of 
some  young  persons  in  emitting  jingle,  she  might,  like  them,  have  hi  en 
tempted  into  pouring  out  profusely  a  weak  wash  of  metrical  prattle,  which 
can  he  called  poetry  only  hy  the  same  license  which  allows  sound  to  he  called 
music  or  words  eloquence.  But  her  sense  of  precision  and  proportion  kept 
back  the  flood.  Like  Lowell,  most  accurate  and  idiomatic  of  our  poets,  Mrs. 
Bingham  never  permitted  her  muse  to  run  wild,  but  held  it  rigorously  under 
the  rein  of  understanding  and  disciplined  taste.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that 
her  work  bore  the  stamp  of  quality,  and  when  at  length  professional  duty 
exacted  of  her  a  large  amount  of  literary  labor,  its  uniform  high  merit  pro- 
voked general  surprise. 

"It  is  a  fact  which  must  have  been  many  time^  noted,  though  wdiether 
particularly  remarked  or  not  we  are  not  aware,  that  poets  are,  almost  without 
exception,  masters  of  prose.  From  Milton  to  Burns,  from  Scott  to  William 
Morris,  or  from  Halleck  to  Holmes,  the  illustrations  of  this  filet  are  as  numer- 
ous as  the  prominent  names  in  this  department  of  literature.  The  classic 
English  is  the  prose  of  the  poets.  The  reason  of  it  is  not  far  to  seek.  The 
power  born  with  the  poet  is  not  something  wholly  unique,  but  'the  vision 
and  the  faculty  divine'  is  made  up  in  a  large  part  of  the  same  qualities  that 
constitute  literary  function  in  general.  Mental  strength  and  mental  fineness, 
acuteness,  delicacy,  humanity,  and  especially  an  ear  for  the  more  subtle  har- 
monies, are  requisites  in  a  literary  artist,  whether  he  write  in  numbers  or 
not.  But  the  necessity  laid  on  the  poet  to  condense  and  prune  and  interfuse 
the  letter  with  the  aroma  of  spirit  is  precisely  the  discipline  which  fits  him 
to  produce  winnowed  and  vital  prose. 

"Mrs.  Bingham  was  not  an  exception  to  the  rule.  Her  specialty  was 
verse, but  her  pen  moved  with  a  force  and  grace  entirely  native  in  essay,  edi- 
torial, stoiy  or  sketch.  It  would  suit  our  feeling  to  allow  her  to  bear  witness 
to  this  statement  at  great  length ;  but  the  limits  within  which  this  essay  must 
fall  prohibit  extended  illustrations.  A  sample  of  her  manner  in  each  depart- 
ment must  suffice.  How  like  a  paragraph  from  the  always  felicitous  'Easy 
Chair'  this  reads: 

"  'It  is  easy  to  celebrate  a  sentiment,  hard  to  criticise  it.     The  origin  of 


198  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Decoration  Day  was  so  spontaneous,  so  natural  from  the  overflowing  heart 
of  the  people,  that  it  could  not  he  argued  ahout,  only  allowed  expression.  If 
there  were  fears  that,  under  the  guise  of  patriotism,  we  were  really  fostering 
sectionahsm  and  keeping  alive  a  hitterness  it  were  better  to  forget,  the  words 
could  not  be  graciously  said  over  those  eloquent  graves.  If  that  temper  were 
really  in  the  hearts  of  the  people,  to  repress  its  utterance  woidd  do  no  good. 
We  must  change  the  feeling  by  the  difficult  triumph  of  principle  over  senti- 
ment; a  sober,  Christian  work,  to  be  accomplished  only  by  the  slow  help  of 
time.  But  time  has  proved  that  this  blossoming  of  tender  remembrance  nour- 
ished no  such  root  of  bitterness.  There  is  no  more  efficient  rebuker  of  hatred 
and  revenge  than  the  grave.  And  as  we  have  written  in  flowers  each  year  the 
old  legend,  'Sweet  and  noble  it  is  to  die  for  one's  country,'  we  have  learned 
a  nobler  appreciation  of  all  sacrifice  and  suffering,  even  that  of  our  enemies. 

"So  evenly  sustained  is  the  excellence  of  her  work  that  we  are  at  a  loss 
where  to  excerpt.  A  few  hues  from  a  remarkably  strong  editorial  on  'The 
Insurrection  of  Conscience, '  must  serve  as  a  hint  of  the  power  and  independ- 
ence of  her  thinking : 

"  'The  great  men  of  history  have  been  the  products,  rather  than  the  lead- 
ers of  an  awakened  age.  There  have  been  eras  of  conscience,  as  there  have 
been  of  material  glory  or  of  intellectual  vigor.  And  these  will  be  found  to 
follow  periods  of  lapse  and  decay  by  a  reaction  as  inevitable  as  the  turning  of 
the  tide.  A  recent  author  thinks  to  have  found  the  secret  of  Christianity  in 
its  self -corrective  power,  its  swinging  back  like  a  pendulum  from  any  extreme. 
But  is  not  this  secret  deeper  even  than  Christianity — inherent  in  the  very 
nature  of  moral  life?  Wherever  conscience  exists,  it  will  sooner  or  later 
become  the  dominant  power;  and  true  or  false  in  the  absolute,  it  will  set 
itself,  like  the  needle  to  the  pole,  to  the  highest  known  ideal  of  righteousness. 
The  reform  of  Buddha  in  its  pure  estate  showed  this,  and  the  reform  of 
Mohammed.  They  were  the  protest  of  simple  righteousness  against  the 
sickly  shains  of  a  degenerate  religion.' 

"The  readers  of  the  'Piepository'  during  Mrs.  Bingham's  term  of  service 
will  remember  that  she  wrote  much  poetry  which  yet  was  not  verse.  The 
poet's  eyes  and  the  poet's  art  were  hers,  and  we  do  not  wonder  at  the  fre- 
quency of  such  true  pictures  of  nature  as  this : 


HENKIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  199 

"  'We  have  had  a  royal  October;  and  now  on  November's  edge  the  sun- 
beams linger  lovingly,  loth  to  fade  or  chill.  Above  us  as  over  Ajalon  of  old, 
the  sun  seems  to  have  stayed  his  journey,  and  tarries  in  northern  skies  as 
serenely  us  if  no  summons  across  the  tropics  had  ever  been  decreed.  The 
leaves  rustle  to  their  fall,  and  the  pomp  of  crimson  and  gold  fades  from  the 
hills:  but  still  balmy  Summer  is  in  the  air,  and  the  golden  mist  is  warm  over 
the  mountains,  and  the  clouds  lie  asleep  on  the  bosom  of  the  clear  blue, 
undreaming  of  storms  to  come.  Yet  the  beauty  that  enwraps  us  as  a  dream 
is  not  the  sensuous  beauty  of  the  Summer.  The  full  foliage,  the  profusion  of 
blossoms,  the  waving  harvest-fields,  have  dropped  out  of  the  picture,  that  a 
more  subtle  and  ethereal  beauty  might  glide  in.  It  is  the  beauty  of  rest  and 
quiet,  when  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  year's  noonday  are  over,  and  its 
hands  are  folded,  its  tasks  all  finished,  its  desire  satisfied.  One  way  or 
another  the  immemorial  feast  of  the  ingathering  has  been  celebrated,  and 
the  harvest  home  has  been  sung.  The  earth  has  yielded  her  increase,  and 
the  food  of  all  her  millions  is  safe  stored  in  her  overflowing  garners.  And 
it  would  seem  as  if  earth  and  air  and  sunshine  paused  entranced  together, 
and  sighed  with  satisfaction,      'It  is  finished.' 

"For  liner  examples  of  the  quality  here  disclosed,  we  refer  the  reader  to 
4 Autumnal  Rain,'  'Spring,'  and  'Under  the  Snow,'  all  too  long  for  quotation. 

"In  two  other  departments  of  prose  writing,  newspaper  correspondence, 
a  distinct  modern  specialty,  and  in  story-telling  for  children,  Mrs.  Bingham 
displayed  the  versatility  of  her  powers.  The  charm  and  naturalness  of  both 
her  stories  and  verses  in  the  'Myrtle,'  during  the  period  that  she  edited  that 
juvenile,  attracted  the  attention,  and  elicited  the  warm  praise  of  hundreds  of 
good  judges.  But  we  must  turn  from  these  inviting  fields  to  consider,  much 
too  briefly,  her  claims  to  the  place  we  have  accorded  her  as  a  poet.  Since 
the  materials  for  illustration  are  so  abundant  we  may  properly  spare  ourselves 
the  task  of  interpretation.  Mrs.  Bingham's  poetic  gifts  were  of  an  order  to 
improve  with  use.  In  each  of  her  longer  poems  there  are  strokes  of  power 
and  strains  of  melody,  prophetic  of  loftier  achievement;  and  we  can  not 
doubt  that  the  palsying  effect  of  disease  abridged  the  full  movement  of  her 
genius.  We  regard  the  work  she  accomplished,  strong  and  flavorsome  as  it 
is,  as  a  hint  only  of  the  great  and  rich  resources  of  her  nature.     Up  to  the 


200  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

time  when  invalidism  suspended  her  work  she  had  scarcely  cleared  herself  of 
the  coloring  of  a  somewhat  morbid  personal  experience,  in  the  light,  or  rather 
dark,  of  which  nearly  all  her  poenis  must  be  read.  Had  her  life  been  pro- 
longed and  health  returned  to  her,  we  should  have  heard  at  length  her  liber- 
ated song,  the  full  note  of  a  rare,  sweet  singer.  A  suggestion  of  what  we 
have  in  mind  is  conveyed  by  a  comparison  of  the  two  poems,  'The  Human 
Side,'  and  'The  Divine  Side.'  The  httle  poem,  'On  the  Edge  of  the  Sea,'  is 
a  sample  also  of  her  healthier  mood.  Such  poems  as  'Compensation,' 
'Divided,*  'Out  of  the  Depths,'  'Sunset,'  take  a  more  powerful  hold  on  us 
because  the  element  of  personal  feeling  compels  sympathy.  But  she  was 
herself  aware  that  so  strong  a  tincture  of  personal  moods,  especially  when 
they  incline  to  melancholy,  is  an  alloy  of  the  true  poetic  quality. 

"Referring  the  reader  to  the  volumes  of  the  'Repository'  between  1869 
and  1875  for  full  memorials  of  her  muse,  we  make  the  best  use  of  our 
remaining  space  by  preserving  here  her  most  characteristic  and  perfectly 
finished  poem,  'L'Envoi.'  It  is  a  midnight  meditation  on  the  passing  year. 
The  familiar  shadow  rests  on  it,  yet  the  light  of  a  serene  trust  illuminates  all 
its  deeps : " 

The  passing  bell  proclaims  it   here— 
The  mystic  midnight  of  the   year, 

Sacred  to   death  and  birth. 
In  silence  comes  a  year   new-given, 
In  silence  goes  the  dead  unshriven 

To  all  the  past  of  earth. 

No  click  upon  the  wheel  of  time 
That  marks  the  centuries  sublime  — 

No  sound  or  sign  is  given, 
So  glide  a  thousand  years  away, 
Serene  as  one  unbroken  day,— 

The  endless  day  of  heaven. 

Above,  the  calm  and   holy   air, 
Below,  the  earth  all  silver-fair, 

All  cold,  and  clear,  and  white; 
Starry   and   dim   and   heavenly   still, 
The  night  goes  on  at  his  great  will, 

Maker  of  night  and  light. 

In  vast  procession,  grand  and  slow, 
The  mighty  constellations  go 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  201 

Across  their  upper  deep: 
Bencatli  their  still,   unfaltering   eyes, 
Our  little   world  untroubled  lies, 

A  weary  child   asleep. 

Our  little  world;    and  yet  how  wide  — 
"What   stretch   of  lands  and  seas  divide 

Beneath  the  self-same  skies! 
How  long  is  time,  how  wide  is   space, 
Measured  from  one  small    hiding-place 

In  these  immensities! 

Out  of  the  sweet  and  soothing  night 
I  lean  a  face  with  stars  alight. 

And  think  of   all  I  love. 
Or  near  or  far,  my  swift  thought  runs, 
And  circles  round  its  chosen   ones, 

Like  the  great  thought  above. 

Nor  these  alone,  but  all  who  lie 
At  rest  beneath   this  guardian   sky, 

While  tumults  pause  and  cease, 
My  taper  sends   its  glow-worm  spark 
Into  the  great  world's  outer  dark, 

With  hail  of  love  and  peace. 

0  friends  beloved,  God  keep  you  all! 
Softly  my  prayers  and  blessings   fall 

On  each  unconscious   head. 
Your  eyes  from  tears,  your  hearts  from   pain, 
Your  homes  with  joy,  your  store  with  gain, 

Be  kept  and  comforted. 

Live  on,  beloved,  that  life  may   be 
The  richer  for  your  ministry  — 
One  brightness,  far  and  near; 

1  dare  not  dream— you  can  not   know, 
How  poor  were  earth  if  you  should  go 

Out  of  its  light  and  cheer! 

And  you,  unloved  because    unknown. 
Whose  hearts  still  beat  with  mine,  as  one, 

God  bless  you  all  to-night! 
Your  unknown  dreams,  your  unheard  prayers, 
Your  secret  hopes,  and  fears,  and  cares. 

Be  precious  in  his  sight. 

And  if  there  be  some  hearts  estranged. 
Who  deem  me  false,  who  find  me  changed, 
Whose  love  from  mine  is  riven, 


14 


202  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

O  friends,  where'er  the  blame  may  lie. 
Let  it  to-night  forever  die, 
Forgive,  and  be  forgiven! 

There  is  no  room  for  strife  or  hate, 
We  are  so  small  and  God  so  great. 

And  his  all   wrongs   redress. 
Forget  the  blind,  unworthy  deed; 
Remember  each  heart's  sorest   need, 

Pity  and  tenderness. 

There's  not  enough  of  love  to  lose, 
There's  not  enough  of  joy  to  choose. 

That  we  should  miss  the  least, 
But  love  need  ask  no  doubtful  leave; 
She  still  can  give  though  none  receive, 

And  find  the  giving  blest. 

O  hearts  that  on  my  own  take  hold, 
0  hearts  indifferent  and  cold. 

One  blessing  on  you  fall. 
Life  is  so  weak,  and  fate  so  strong. 
And  joy  so  short,   and  grief  so  long, 

God  help  and  shield  you  all! 

0  kindred  of  one  common  blood, 

1  give  you  pledge  of  brotherhood, 

Sworn  to  this  heaven  above. 
The  word  is  poor,  the  gift  is  small, 
Broken  and  vain  the  deeds  may  fall, 

The  will  is  all  of  love! 

The  subjoined  tender  summing  up  of  the  last  days  of  this  angelic  spirit 
is  from  Hattie  Tyng  Griswold:  "The  storms  of  the  bitter  Winter  are  upon 
us ;  the  whirling  of  the  white  flakes  greets  our  dazzled  eyes  on  every  hand ; 
there  are  wild  winds  a-blowing;  and  in  the  solemn  city  of  the  dead  whence 
we  have  come  to-day  there  is  only  dreariness  and  desolation.  We  have  left 
our  friend  there.  It  gives  an  added  pang  to  death  to  bury  a  friend  at  such 
a  season.  There  is  something  almost  inviting  in  the  sunny  hill-top  where 
our  cemetery  is  situated,  in  Summer.  The  great  trees  lay  their  broad  arms 
athwart  the  slope.  The  grassy  paths  are  full  of  flowers.  Daisies  and  butter- 
cups and  purple  violets  dot  them,  and  the  wild  rose  swings  its  dainty  sprays 
here  and  there.  In  the  Autumn  it  is  a  mass  of  gorgeous  color,  with  its  flam- 
ing sumach  and  its  golden  rod;  but  in  Winter  it  is  so  bleak,  so  cold,  so  deso- 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  203 

late,  that  we  can  not  endure  to  come  away  and  leave  one  we  love  in  its  icy 
embrace. 

"But  after  two  years  of  constant  suffering  we  can  not  weep  that  our 
friend  has  found  her  rest.  She  has  gained  the  Nirvana  which  she  yearned 
for,  with  such  inexpressible  yearning,  during  the  long,  solitary  Winter  nights 
when  sleep  stood  aloof,  with  finger  on  her  lip,  and  pressed  its  balm  on  every 
lid  but  hers.  The  watch  has  been  long  which  she  has  kept,  the  waiting  has 
been  weary — many  of  the  hours  have  been  barbed  with  pain;  but  now  we 
feel  that  she 

'  has  the  best 
Which  heaven  itself  can  give  her— rest!' 

"Hers  was  a  beautiful  life  and  a  beautiful  death.  She  had  a  rich  na- 
ture, both  religious  and  poetical.  Endowed  with  unusual  intellectual  j>ower, 
which  was  well  trained  and  responded  readily  to  calls  upon  it,  it  was  accom- 
panied with  great  spiritual  feeling  and  spiritual  culture.  She  was  deeply 
devotional  in  spirit,  and  found  it  difficult  to  understand  why  all  her  friends 
did  not  delight  as  she  did,  in  prayer  and  praise.  It  was  her  deepest  joy,  and 
the  indifference  of  many  to  it  was  to  her  a  burden  and  a  grief.  She  was  a 
great  quickener  to  the  faith  of  others,  and  a  stimulus  to  all  who  came  under 
her  influence,  both  spiritually  and  intellectually.  She  would  have  made  an 
admirable  minister  of  the  gospel,  and,  I  have  no  doubt,  would  have  eventu- 
ally been  found  in  that  profession,  had  not  death  brought  all  her  large,  far- 
reaching  plans  to  a  sudden  end.  She  would  have  found  here  a  congenial 
sphere  in  which  to  labor,  and  would  have  wrought  out  great  results  in  life 
and  character  among  her  people,  I  can  not  doubt.  She  had  the  seeing  eye 
and  the  understanding  heart.  Nothing  that  was  beautiful  escaped  her,  in 
nature  or  in  life.  No  ethereal  haze  upon  the  distant  hills,  no  shimmer  of 
silver  waters  through  the  trees,  no  smallest  blossom  in  the  sod,  was  lost  to 
her  vision.  No  smallest  blossom  of  beauty  in  life  and  character  among  her 
friends  bloomed  for  her  in  vain.  She  had  a  genius  for  discovering  hidden 
merits.  She  drew  forth  much  which  was  never  disclosed  to  other  eyes. 
Some  hidden  alchemy  within  herself  drew  forth  the  best  of  other  lives.  She 
was  a  delightful  companion,  full  of  wit  and  humor  and  repartee,  and  with  an 
eye  for  all  the  comic  side  of  hfe,  she  was  never  dull  and  morbid,  or  otherwise 


204  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

than  fresh  and  insjjiring.  She  was  loved  by  everybody,  though  she  had  par- 
ticular sympathy  with  the  young. 

"At  the  close  of  a  life  singularly  beautiful  and  trusting,  the  fruits  of  that 
life  were  seen  in  the  great  calm  of  patient  expectation,  of  serene  waiting,  the 
sublime  confidence  of  the  later  hours.  As  the  large  activities  of  her  years 
of  labor  passed  before  her  in  review,  she  yearned  sometimes  to  stay  and  labor 
on.  There  was  so  much  to  do  she  cordd  scarcely  bear  to  think  of  being  put 
upon  the  retired  list  at  so  early  an  hour;  and,  in  addition  to  this,  she  had  a 
hearty  and  genuine  delight  in  life.  The  world  contained  much  for  her.  She 
would  have  carried  her  joy  of  existence  on  into  old  age  had  such  been  her 
destiny;  yet  she  was  content  when  she  heard  the  silver  trumpet  sounding  her 
recall.  It  is  well  for  her,  but  the  hearts  of  her  friends  are  heavy.  The  world 
has  lost  an  earnest  worker,  every  good  and  noble  cause  a  faithful  advocate, 
every  burdened  and  oppressed  soul  a  sympathizing  friend,  every  religious 
movement  a  prayerful  ally.  Therefore  the  world  is  poorer.  Such  lives  as 
hers  are  not  counted  in  great  numbers.  She  was  one  of  the  few  who  stood 
upon  the  heights  of  hfe.  Every  string  in  her  nature  was  lofty  and  fine  and 
attuned  to  song.  Her  hfe  was  rhythmic,  it  was  melodious,  it  was  the  round- 
ing of  a  sphere.  But  the  snow  has  fallen  upon  her,  which  no  earthly  sun 
will  ever  melt;  its  coldness  separates  us  for  all  time,  and  we  mourn  her  as 
one  whose  place  no  other  can  fill.  Rosemary  be  upon  her  grave,  and  in  our 
hearts  remembrance.  There  is  work  for  her  beyond.  It  is  well.  Her  mem- 
ory is  both  a  benediction  and  an  inspiration." 

Her  principal  story,  "Mignonette,"  was  written  in  1865.  "The  True 
Immortality,"  read  at  the  first  anniversary  of  the  Zetagathean  (seekers  after 
truth)  Society,  of  the  Divinity  School  at  Tufts  College,  was  considered  very 
able.  The  following  poem  relates  to  the  father  and  mother  of  Henrietta's 
husband : 

TWO    WAYS. 

They  had  a  son,  an  only  son, 

Their  hope  and  happiness  and  pride, 
With  life's  first  honors   nobly  won, 

At  manhood's  golden  gates  he  died. 

And  year  by  year,  with  backward  gaze 
From  that  great  light  receding  slow; 


HENRIETTA    A.    BINGHAM.  20.' 

Through  lonely,  sad  and  toilsome  ways. 
Down  to  their  childless  age  they  go. 

She  keeps  the  memory  like  a  shrine 

All  incense-wreathed  of  heart  and  lip; 
With  that  dear  presence    now  divine 

She  never  yields  companionship. 

The   pictured   face   thai    Lights  the   wad. 

Whose  garlands  never  know  decay; 
The  books  from   weary  hands   let  fall. 

The  garments  never  laid   away. 

A  thousand  signs,  with  tender  tone. 

Tell  how   the   fond   heart  cheats  its  pain 
With  semblance  of  a  life  not  gone, 

That  any  hour  may  come  again. 

She  loves  the  green   earth   where  he  lies, 

And  stars  the  sod  with  snowy  bloom; 
And  lingers,  as  in  some  sweet  guise 

She  met  him  at  an  open  tomb. 

Her  year  is  full  of  sacred  days. 

Each  with  its  special  joy  in  him. 
She  treasures  up  his  words  and  ways 

Like  jewels  that  no  time  can  dim. 

Her  life  keeps  young  with  all  he  loved; 

When  those  who  loved  him  praise  his  worth, 
With  strange,  new  pride  her  heart  is  moved, 

She  feeds  on  manna  not  of  earth. 

The  mourner  at  her  side  is  dumb, 

As  in  a  dream  he  sees  and  hears; 
To  him  all   arts   of  solace   come 

Like  music  to  unanswering  ears. 

The  poor  memorials   stir   him   not; 

He  never  meets  the  pictured  eyes; 
If  haply   comes   the   theme    unsought, 

He  turns  away   with   vague    replies. 

In  quiet    uncomplaining  frame 

He  walks  his  daily  duty's  round; 
Life's  workday  interests  the  same. 

His  thought  ami  purpose  seem  to  bound. 


206  °UB    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

But  daily  grows  he  grave  and  still. 

More  bowed  with  care,  more  touched  with  age. 

No  past  delights  his  present  till, 

No  future  plans  his  thoughts  engage. 

His  eyes  have  learned  a  far-off  look; 

His  head  is  bowed  when  none  are  by; 
He  oftener  reads  one  holy  book 

Or  muses  lone  and  silently. 

Whate'er  he  feels,  no  moan  is  made, 
The  secret  burden   none  may  know 

Nor  tenderest  pity  dare  invade 
That  patient  dignity  of   woe. 

For  every  pain  her  eyes  are  dim, 

She  mourns  with  every  heart  bereft; 

A  calm  endurance  fills  for  him 

The  measure  of  the  life  that's  left. 

A  childless  mother  ne'er  she  feels, 
In  every  child  she  sees  her  own; 

No  word  or  look  in  him  reveals 
The  father  who  has  had  a  son. 

One  wears  the  sorrow  like  a  erown, 

Nor  any  life  could  live  apart; 
And  one  its  anguish  smothers  down, 

And  hides  it  in  a  hidden   heart. 

Which  grief  is  saddest,  who  shall  seek, 
Or  which  most  beautiful  to  see, 

The  love  for  which  all  words  are  weak 
Or   that  of  which  no  word  can  be? 


A    NIGHT    RIDE. 

Roll  on,  0  tireless  wheels! 

The  city's  lights  fade   out  behind; 
Dim.  ghostly  shapes  the  way  reveals 

A  world  <if  shadows  undefined, 

While   closer,   heavier  over   all 


HENRIETTA    A.     BINGHAM.  207 

The  curtains  of  th«'  darkness  fall. 
Roll  on,  resistless  might. 
And  bear   us  through  the  night. 

Roll  on  with  crash  and  roar. 

To  thy  swift   path  our  eyes  are   blind; 
A  realm  of  chaos  lies  before, 

A  chasm  of  darkness  shuts  behind. 
Above  the  jar  and  clash  of  wheels, 
The  frail-built  chariot  sways  and  reels; 
And  danger  adds  delight 
To  power  and  speed  and  night. 

Ride  on.  mysterious  force! 

We  know  there  is  a  hand  of  skill 
That  guides  thy  far  and  flying  course, 

And  holds  thee   vassal  to  its  will. 
An  eye.  upon  the  track   is    stayed, 
A  hand  upon  the   lever   laid: 

That  sway  the  engine  feels  — 
That  spirit   rules    the  wheels. 

Ride  on,  with  speed  or  slack, 

Our  fate  is  in  a  trusty  hand. 
Though  gloom  and  darkness  shroud  the  track, 

Beyond  it    lies  the  end  we  planned. 
We  near  and   leave  the  haunts  of  men; 
The  lights  flash  out  and   lade  again; 
Each,  as  they  go  and  come, 
A  station  nearer  home. 

O  ceaseless  roar  and  roll! 

Ye  mind  me  of  a  swifter  flight  — 
This  earthly  transit  of  the  soul, 

An  unknown  journey  through  the  night. 
No   eye    of   ours    the    path    ran    tell. 
No  hand  of  ours  the  wheels  compel; 
The  force  that  cleaves  our  way 
We  can  not  speed    nor  stay. 

Roll   on,    ye   wheels  of  Fate! 

No  roar  or  jar  salutes  our  ears; 
Ye  move  in  silent,  solemn  state 

Along   tin'    highway   of  the    years. 
On  either  hand   we   vaguely  see 
The  shadowy  hints  of  destiny, 

And   bursts   of  transient   light 
Gleam  out  across  the  night. 


108  OUR     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Roll  on,  0    silent  wheels; 

Unknown  and  dark  may  be  the  road. 
But  some  strong  hand  the  spirit  feels 

That  guides  it  toward  an  end  of  good; 
Ride  on,  O  trusting  soul,  secure; 
The  way  is  planned,  the  end  is  sure. 
Ride  on  without  a  fear. 
There  is  an  engineer! 


AT    SCHOOL    STREET    VESTRY. 

MAY    1,     1872. 

I. 

The  old  church  called,  and  brought  her  children  home. 

A  fair  and  goodly  host  were  they  who  heard! 

Each  loyal  heart  with  one  emotion  stirred— 
Proud  to  have  once  been  hers,  where'er  they  roam — 
From  many  a  kindred  flock  and  alien   dome 

They  turned  at  that  pathetic,  tender  word, 

"One  last  time,  children,  gather  at  my  board 
In  memory  of  me,  whose  end  is  come." 
And  as  they  sat,  and  every  heart  was  stilled 

With  holy  songs,  and  melting  words  half-said. 

And  mighty  memories  of  days  long  fled, 
Lo!  all  the  place  with  solemn  rapture  thrilled 
As  with  a  rushing,  heavenly  wind  'twere  filled. 

And  penteeostal  flames  were  o'er  them  shed. 

II. 

Sat  at  that  banquet  many  an  unseen  guest. 

The  ships  had  borne  them  home  from  every  land. 

From  Florida's  green  glades,  from  Europe's  strand. 
O'er  far  Pacific  seas  across  the  West, 
From  where  the  northern  iceberg  lifts  its  crest 

To  where  the  southern  cross  shines  lone  and  grand. 

They  came,  an  honored  and  a  welcome  band, 
And  took  their  dear  old   places  with  the  rest. 
Ay,  and  from  those  unknown,  immortal  spheres. 

The  blessed  ones,  not  passed  beyond  recall. 

Through  the  rapt  silence  let  their  glory   fall. 
Till  tho  dimmed  vision  saw   through  far-off  years 
That  feast  when  God  has  wiped  away  all  tears, 

And  all  are  one  in  him,  and  be  is  all! 


ANNA    MAMA    BATES.  20U 


ANNA   MAKIA   BATES. 

One  of  the  most  industrious,  efficient  and  talented  of  the  writers  in  our 
periodicals,  was  Anna  Maria  Bates,  who  was  born  in  Pembroke,  N.  H.,  Feb. 
2,  1834.  She  was  an  only  daughter,  with  the  exception  of  three  half-sisters 
by  a  previous  marriage  of  her  father.  They  married  and  left  home  while  she 
was  very  young.  Her  early  life  is  best  described  by  herself,  in  an  autobio- 
graphical sketch,  re-written  by  Rev.  Thos.  Whittemore,  and  published  in  the 
"Trumpet"  in  1858: 

"Apart  from  the  world,  her  life  has  been  spent  in  her  pleasant,  native 
seclusion,  whose  influences  have  naturally  colored  her  thoughts,  as  waters 
are  colored  by  the  minerals  over  which  they  flow.  Her  father  was  a  native 
of  Hingham,  Mass.,  and  her  mother  was  born  in  Pembroke.  Miss  Bates 
developed  her  taste  for  poetry  at  an  early  age.  She  was  exceedingly  fond  of 
reading  and  of  flowers,  and  with'a  love  for  seclusion,  she  felt,  even  while  a  child 
at  school  among  the  village  children,  that  she  was  among  them,  but  not  of 
them.  Her  first  poems,  'Summer'  and  'The  Captive  Canary,'  were  written 
as  school  compositions  when  she  was  about  nine  years  of  age ;  from  this  date 
until  she  was  seventeen  she  wrote  little,  being  engaged  in  her  school  duties. 

"The  doctrine  of  Universalism  came  to  her  rather  by  intuition  than 
instruction,  brought  up  as  she  had  been  among  Methodist  and  orthodox  influ- 
ences, and  seldom  hearing  sermons  of  any  other  stamp.  Her  mind  early 
rejected  their  inharmonious  incongruities,  and  turned  to  what  was  more 
rational  and  beautiful  to  a  mind  that  loved  the  law  of  kindness." 

When  a  biographical  sketch  was  asked  of  her,  she  wrote:  "It  is  painful 
to  have  my  name  come  out  at  the  head  of  such  an  article,  and  it  is  only  my 
great  reverential  love  for]  Father  Whittemore  that  makes  me  consent  to 
such  a  thing."  In  one  of  her  letters  to  a  friend  she  says:  "I  must  tell  you 
1  am  almost  a  recluse.  I  live  here  so  quietly,  with  my  parents  and  one 
brother,  in  a  large  old-fashioned  house,  full  of  rude  plenty  as  New  England 
farm-houses  are.  This  is  a  manufacturing  village,  but  we,  happily,  live  on 
its   borders,  out  of    the  noise   of   the   factory,   and   apart  from    the   thickly 


210  OUB    WOMAN    WOBKEBS. 

crowded  houses.  From  our  windows  we  see  dark,  old  bills,  belts  of  green 
woods,  and  in  the  distance  the  rippling  waters  of  the  Merrimac.  Here  are 
green  lanes,  very  beautiful  and  fragrant  in  Summer,  and  in  Spring  bordered 
with  violets,  anemones  and  daisies.  I  have  no  partial  faith.  My  belief  in 
the  final  holiness  and  happiness  of  aU  has  grown  with  my  growth  and 
strengthened  with  my  strength.  I  can  not  believe,  as  some  would  have  me, 
that  while  God  showers  unnumbered  blessings  upon  one  being  through  eter- 
nity, another,  formed  the  same,  will  agonize  and  suffer.  I  walk  a  mile  and 
a  half  monthly  to  Universalist  meetings,  and  occasionally  attend  their  social 
circles,  but  the  .large  gatherings  of  two  hundred  are  not  in  accordance  with  my 
quiet  tastes." 

To  Mrs.  Louise  Mather  she  wrote  of  a  dying  friend,  "Now  the  minister- 
ing spirits  wait  to  bear  her  away  from  the  bleak,  cold  Winter  of  earth  to  the 
land  where  she  will  bloom  in  immortal  youth,  and  dwell  in  the  midst  of 
unfading  Spring,  toward  which  God's  entire  family  are  tending." 

Just  before  her  death  she  wrote:  "My  pen  and  I  have  been  strangers  for 
a  long  time.  We  have  been  painting  the  interior  of  our  house,  and  migrating 
from  room  to  room  in  the  damp,  rainy  weather.  We  were  obliged  to  cook 
over  a  fireplace,  and  how  our  grandmothers  ever  managed  with  them  to  pro- 
vide food  for  their  large  families  is  a  mystery  to  me!     I has  just  brought 

me  in  some  clusters  of  pale  pink  arbutus,  damp  with  May  rain.  There  has 
been  a  revival  of  religion  among  the  Methodists  here,  and  in  connection  with 
it  I  have  felt  tried  by  the  conduct  of  a  friend.  She  has  always  been  a  Uni- 
versalist; she  told  me  her  religious  views  would  never  change,  but  added, 
'When  you  are  in  Rome  do  as  the  Romans  do.'  The  next  day  I  heard  she 
was  in  the  anxious  seats,  and  in  two  or  three  weeks  was  baptized.  I  felt  as 
if  she  had  either  acted  a  falsehood  or  told  me  one,  and  I  am  pained  and 
shocked." 

A  friend  writes:  "I  think  it  was  in  the  Spring  of  1857  I  first  saw  Anna, 
when  on  a  visit  to  her  home.  She  met  me  at  the  door;  a  blonde,  with  blue 
eyes;  hair  of  that  golden-brown  color  we  read  of  inverse,  and  see  in  old 
paintings  but  seldom  elsewhere,  and  cheeks  rosy  with  health.  She  took  me 
into  the  large,  pleasant  sitting-room,  whose  walls  were  hung  with  pictures  she 
had  painted,  and  which  was  perfumed  with  May  flowers  she  had  gathered 


ANNA    MARIA    BATES.  211 

the  day  before,  as  she  said,  to  welcome  my  coming.  Her  mother,  a  pleas- 
ant, quiet  lady,  interested  me  warmly  at  first  sight.  They  were  not  then  liv- 
ing in  the  village.  I  think  the  village  has  since  grown  around  them.  The 
little  yard  at  the  front  was  green  with  jessamine  and  woodbine;  at  the  back 
was  Anna's  garden  where  she  spent  many  busy  hours.  I  do  not  know  if  my 
new  friend  exactly  realized  the  impressions  made  from  her  letters  and  poetry ; 
the  serious  or  sad  tone  which  pervaded  them  did  not  appeal  in  our  daily 
intercourse,  and,  as  I  saw  more  fully  when  we  met  again  in  after  years,  she 
possessed  brilliant  conversational  powers,  and  a  happy  faculty  of  expression 
which  sometimes  threw  the  charm  of  poetry  over  very  humble  things." 

Miss  Martha  Rernick  and  Mrs.  Mather  were  very  dear  friends  of  Miss 
Bates,  and  they  speak  of  her  as  possessed  of  a  pure  and  lovely  spirit.  Her 
poetry  was  always  musical,  very  descriptive,  and  pervaded  by  a  sweet  and 
tender  sentiment.  Could  her  productions  be  collected  they  would  fill  a  large 
and  valuable  volume.  Undoubtedly  her  best  poem  is  "Over  the  River."  It 
very  much  resembles  the  remarkable  poem  by  Miss  Nancy  W.  Priest,  "Over 
the  River  They  Beckon  to  Me ; "  or  rather  Miss  Priest's  poem  resembles  hers, 
for  Miss  Bates'  was  published  several  years  antecedently.  Though  the 
resemblance  is  close,  it  is  no  doubt  accidental. 

Over  the  river  gloomy  and  wide, 
Borne  on  the  waves  of  the  purple  tide, 
With  his  azure  eye  and  smile  of  joy, 
0  Long  ago  went  our  little  boy 

When   the   earth's   May   moon   hung  red  and  high, 
And  laden   with   flowers   the   breeze   crept   by. 
Away  from   his  home  the  dear  one  passed, 
Like  a  precious  pearl  on  the  deep  waves  cast; 
Leaving  the  hearts  that   would   love  forever 
For  heaven's   strand   shining  over  the   river. 

And  another  soon,  the  young  bride  fair, 

With   orange   wreath    in    her  flowing  hair. 

With  the  light  of  joy  around  her  shed, 

Swift   as   an   arrow's   flight    she   sped, 

Oh,  memory's  harp  lias  a  mournful  quiver, 

When  it   tells  how  she  crossed  the  darksome  riverl 

Behind   her  a   pilgrim,   gray   and   old, 

Passed    where   the  solemn    waters   rolled. 

Mother  and  child— another  twain. 


212  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Seeking  a  clime  unknown  to  pain; 
When  the  Autumn  trees  began  to  shiver. 
Silently  passed  they  over  the  river. 

Now  as  I  write,  another  dirge 

Rings  through  my  soul  like  a  sorrowful  surge, 

Though  above  the  sky   is  blue  with  May, 

And  the  wild  birds  sing,  and  the  young  lambs  play. 

For  a  fair  young  rose  from  its  bough  is  torn, 

A  presence  bright  from  the  home  bower  gone; 

Yet  death  can  never  the  love-chain  sever, 

'Twill  circle  us  all  when  over  the  river! 

Over  the  river!     Oh,  skies  of  May, 

What  charm  has  your  bended  blue  to-day? 

Though  round  me  the  fairest  flow'rets  blush, 

And  the  grass  grows  green  by  the  streamlet's  gush, 

I  think  of  those  who  went  from   sight 

Like  stars  that  pale  in  the  dawning  light. 

Gone,  all  gone  to  the  blessed  band. 

Who  tread  the  shores  of  the1  spirit  land. 

And  thus  where  the  solemn  waters  flow, 

One  by  one  will  the  dear  ones  go 

From  the  ills  of  life  and  its  vain  endeavor. 

To  the  land  unfading,  over  the  river! 

"The  Angel  of  Patience,"  of  which  Miss  Bates  seemed  the  personifica- 
tion, I  give  below : 

A  vision,  the  form   of  an  angel. 

Came  to  my  wildered  dreams. 
And  my  feet  that  were  worn  with  travel 

She  led  to  celestial  streams. 
Her  face  was  pale  and  saintly. 

And  her  hands  were  soft  and   fair. 
And  she  laved  my  hot  brow   softly 

In  the  waters  gleaming  there. 

With  an  eager,  deep  beseeching. 

And  a  wildly  throbbing  heart, 
I  prayed  this  lovely  angel, 

"Oh,  ne'er  from  me  depart! 
In  the  world  where  I  must  linger 

The  cruel  thorns  lie  sown, 
And  the  path  is  sometimes  dreary 

When;  I  fear  to  walk  alone!" 

With  her  smile  of  holy  seeming 
Thus   she    answered    unto   me. 


ANNA    MARIA    HATES.  213 

"All  the  days  that  are  appointed 

I  will  henceforth  dwell  with  thee. 
I  will  tend  the  few  faint  roses 

In  thy  heart's  green  garden  spot, 
Till  they  perfume  all  thy  future 

And  beautify  thy  lot. 

"I  am  Patience,   and  my  mission 

Is  to   lighten   human   care, 
And  to  ease  the  heavy  burden 

That  is  all  too  hard  to  bear. 
To  the  humble  and  afflicted 

And  the   weak,  my  worth  is  known, 
For  I  lead  their  footsteps  upward 

To  the  shadow7  of  the  throne." 

Then  I  wakened,  but  around  me 

Still  I  hear  the  sinking  streams. 
And  the  angel  is  beside  me 

Wlio  was  with  me  in  my  dreams. 
Often  when   my  heart  grows  weary 

As  I  bow  beneath  the   rod, 
For  the  heavenly  gift  of  Patience 

Do  I  kneel  and  thank  my  God. 


NOVEMBER. 

Slowly  now  the  year  is  dying  while  the  star  of  evening  shines. 
His  requiem  is  sighing  through  the  lonely  mountain  pines; 
There  is  sadness  in  the  murmur  of  the  waves  upon  the  shore, 
For  they  know  he  is  departing,  to  return  ah,  nevermore! 

When  the  early  flowers  blossomed,  he  was  strong  and  Wave  and  young. 
When  the  Summer  fruits  were  glowing  and  the  Summer  minstrels  sung, 
Like  a  king,  in  robes  of  splendor,  did  he  sit  on  Autumn's  throne. 
But  his  pomp  has  all  departed,  he  is  left  to  die  alone. 

He  has  brought  uncounted  treasures  to  the  dwellers  of  the  earth, 
Bright  hopes  and  fond  affections  to  the  altar  and  the  hearth; 
He  has  twined  the  orange    blossoms  for  many  a  gentle  head. 
He  has  laid,  oh,  speak  it  softly,  burial  flowers  o'er  the  dead. 

He  is  fading,  he  is  passing;   when  the  Christmas  yule-log  glows, 
Winn  its  lights  and  garlands  glisten,  and  the  wassail  cup  o'erflows, 
Out  in  the  lonesome  forest  'neath  the  sky's  broad  azure   dome, 
The  Old  Year  will  be  passing  to  his  eternal  home. 


214  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

How  shall  we  greet  another  when  its  benison  is  poured? 
Shall  we  do  a  nobler  service  'neath  the  banner  of  our  Lord? 
Shall  we  feel  that  prayer  is  mighty,  and  strive  till  we  prevail, 
Till  the  strong  foes  of  our  Zion  amid  their  errors  quail? 

Thou,  who  above  art  watching  over  these   passing  years. 
Who  dost  measure  in  thy  mercy  our  trials  and  our  tears. 
Let  the  influence  of  thy  spirit  make  the  heavy  burden  light, 
Give  us  strength  to  meet  the  duties  of  the  coming  time  aright. 

And  haste  the  hour,  0  Father,  when  in  all  the  world  shall  be 
The  one  fold  of  the  one  Shepherd  redeemed  and  blest  in  thee: 
When  our  dying  years  of  sorrow  shall  for  years  of  joy  make  room. 
And  the  heart's  Novembers  brighten  into  Summer's  fadeless  bloom. 

This  beautiful  woman  died  in  Suncook,  N.  H.,  of  typhoid  fever,  aged 
thirty- six  years. 


AMANDA  LANE  ROOT. 


PREPARED  BY  REV.  RICHARD  EDDY. 


Amanda  Lane,  daughter  of  Samuel  and  Martha  Lane,  was  born  in 
Gloucester,  Mass.,  July  9,  1839.  She  was  educated  in  the  public  schools  of 
her  native  town,  and  was  for  several  years  book-keeper  for  her  father,  who 
was  largely  engaged  in  the  fishing  trade.  In  her  public  career  she  has  ren- 
dered eminent  service  to  the  church  and  to  the  temperance  cause. 

For  many  years  a  member  of  the  Universalist  church  in  Gloucester,  she 
has  ably  represented  that  body  in  the  local  and  State  bodies,  and  the  State 
in  the  General  Convention.  Identified  with  the  Woman's  Centenary  Asso- 
ciation from  its  organization  in  1871,  at  which  time  she  became  its  Record- 
ing Secretary,  she  was  subsequently  chosen  Vice-President  for  Massachusetts, 
having  oversight  of  the  woman's  work  in  that  State ,  a  position  which  she 
most  acceptably  filled  till  the  pressure  of  other  duties  compelled  her  to  resign. 

She  is  best  known  to  the  public  at  large  in  connection  with  her  position 
and  influence  in  the  temperance  reform.  Gloucester,  the  headquarters  of  the 
salt-water  fisheries,  is,  because  of  the  peculiar  character  of  the  men  who  go 


AMANDA    LANE    ROOT.  215 

on  the  fishing  fleet,  greatly  demoralized  at  times  hy  the  excessive  use  of  in- 
toxicants. These  special  occasions  are  when  the  more  than  five  thousand 
fishermen  are,  at  the  close  of  the  fishing  season,  thrown  upon  the  place  with 
plenty  of  money,  and  too  often  under  the  sway  of  evil  passions.  At  such 
times  it  requires  all  the  efforts  and  sacrifices  of  a  devoted  philanthropy  to 
curl)  the  tendencies  of  the  tempted,  and  to  protect  from  shame  and  violence 
the  hundreds  of  homes  with  which  these  men  are  connected.  In  this  emi- 
nently Christian  work,  the  subject  of  this  sketch  was  for  many  years  engaged, 
often  securing  results  of  incalculable  blessing.  Her  first  public  work  as 
associated  with  others  in  the  temperance  cause,  was  in  connection  with  a 
division  of  the  Sons  of  Temperance  established  several  years  ago  in  her 
native  place,  in  which  she  occupied  a  prominent  position,  and  was  untiring 
in  her  efforts  to  secure  the  results  at  which  it  aimed. 

In  1862,  when  Good  Templary,  distinguished  by  its  fundamental  prin- 
ciple that  woman  is  equally  entitled  with  man  to  the  labors  and  honors  of 
temperance  workers,  began  to  establish  its  Lodges  in  Massachusetts,  Miss 
Lane,  seeing  in  such  an  organization  an  indication  of  justice  and  of  wisdom, 
and  an  opportunity  for  the  best  results,  united  with  several  of  her  friends  in 
seeking  a  charter  for  Fraternity  Lodge,  which  was  instituted  in  Gloucester 
in  May,  of  that  year.  The  second  highest  place  in  the  organization  was 
assigned  to  her,  and  at  the  close  of  the  first  term,  her  manifest  abilities 
created  the  demand  for  her  becoming  the  executive  and  highest  officer  in  the 
Lodge.  Subsequently  her  services  were  unanimously  sought,  and  cheerfully 
rendered,  in  other  positions  of  responsibility  and  trust.  During  her  connec- 
tion with  the  Lodge,  and  mainly  by  her  devotion  and  fidelity  to  its  work,  it 
became  the  largest  Lodge  in  the  State,  and  was  noted  for  its  high  rank  in 
usefulness. 

In  1865,  Miss  Lane  became  a  member  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  the  State, 
and  such  was  her  reputation  in  the  Order  that  she  was  at  once  elected  to  one 
of  the  highest  and  most  responsible  positions  in  that  body.  In  1866  and 
again  in  1874,  she  was  a  member  of  the  committee  to  receive,  in  behalf  of 
the  Grand  Lodge,  the  Right  Worthy  Grand  Lodge,  and  was  at  each  of 
these  sessions  a  delegate  to  the  supreme  body  of  the  Order.  At  the  first  of 
these  sessions  of  the  supreme  body,  she  was  chosen  Right  Worthy  Grand 


216  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Vice-Templar,  receiving  forty-nine  of  the  fifty-one  votes  cast;  and  on  the  fol- 
lowing year  was  unanimously  re-elected.  Her  services  have  been  rendered 
most  acceptably,  on  Committees  on  Constitutions  and  on  the  State  of  the 
Order,  two  of  the  most  important  committees  of  the  Order.  At  the  session 
of  the  Right  Worthy  Grand  Lodge,  in  Bloomington,  111.,  she  was  again 
elected  to  the  office  of  Right  Worthy  Grand  Vice-Templar,  and  was  chosen 
by  the  New  England  Representatives  to  speak  for  New  England  at  the  Public 
Reception  Meeting.  She  has  been  in  attendance  at  many  sessions  of  the 
Right  Worthy  Grand  Lodge,  a  body  composed  of  the  leading  temperance 
men  and  women  of  all  sections  of  the  world,  by  aU  of  whom  she  is  held  in 
highest  esteem,  and  receives  from  them  most  sincere  and  cordial  greetings. 

In  1873  she  was  elected  Grand  Worthy  Secretary  of  the  Grand  Lodge 
of  Massachusetts,  an  office  imposing  arduous  duty,  and  a  difficult  position  to 
fill  with  the  approval  of  such  a  large  and  mixed  membership ;  but  such  was 
her  fidelity,  promptness,  courtesy  and  great  ability,  that  she  was  twice  unan- 
imously re-elected.  Of  her  temperance  work  as  a  whole,  and  especiaUy  of 
her  labors  as  a  Good  Templar,  it  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  her  eloquent 
appeals  on  the  public  platform,  and  her  magnetic  power  in  the  Lodge-room 
have  been  more  widely  recognized,  and  brought  her  into  greater  prominence 
than  has  fallen  to  the  lot  of  any  other  woman  in  New  England.  While  she 
has  avoided,  so  far  as  was  consistent  with  her  official  duties,  the  notoriety  of 
public  life,  her  earnest  speech  and  her  whole-hearted  devotion  to  the  tem- 
perance cause  made  for  her  a  reputation  which  brought  constant  invitations 
for  her  services  on  the  public  platform. 

In  1870  Miss  Lane  was  married  to  Solomon  F.  Root,  then  of  Hinsdale, 
Mass.  Her  present  home  is  in  East  Douglas,  in  the  same  State.  It  has  not 
been  her  privilege  since  her  marriage  to  reside  where  she  could  have  the 
opportunity  of  attending  the  Universalist  church,  but  she  has  been  welcomed 
to  churches  of  various  denominations,  and,  although  frankly  avowing  her 
Universalism,  has  been  solicited  to  take  part  in  their  prayer-meetings  and 
Sunday-schools.  Happy  in  her  home,  blest  with  an  appreciative  companion, 
and  devoted  to  her  two  children,  with  a  host  of  friends  scattered  all  over  the 
world,  Mrs.  Root  has  demonstrated  what  woman  can  do  in  the  great  field  of 
Christian  and  moral  effort. 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD.  217 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD. 

Hattie  Tyng,  tlie  sweet  singer  of  Wisconsin,  or  "Apple-Blossoms,"  as 
she  is  poetically  designated  by  her  friends,  is  the  daughter  of  the  late  Rev. 
Dudley  Tyng  of  our  church,  and  was  born  in  the  "City  of  Thought,"  Boston, 
Mass.,  Jan.  20,  1842.  Surely  the  old  Bay-State  must  be  the  nurse  of  song, 
for  it  was  there  that  Hattie  Tyng  inhaled  the  inspiration  that  makes 

"Her  songs  gush  from   her  heart 

As  showers  from  the  clouds  of  Summer." 

Her  mother  was  a  native  of  New  York  and  was  one  who  with  open  eyes 
looked  the  world  in  the  face  and,  with  clear  good  judgment,  submitted  to  the 
ills  of  her  lot  heroically,  and  to  its  blessings  with  Christian  grace.  Add  to 
keen  knowledge  of  human  nature,  a  great  fund  of  incisive  sarcasm,  love  of 
argument  and  disputation  upon  religious  and  intellectual  themes,  and 
boundless  pity  for  the  poor  and  suffering,  and  we  have  a  good  likeness  of  the 
inner  woman,  who  was  the  mother  of  our  poet.  Her  father  was  a  book- worm 
and  a  dreamer,  and  often  put  the  heroism  of  his  devoted  wife  to  test.  Mrs 
Griswold  writes:  "Religion  absorbed  all  his  mind  and  all  his  heart,  and  left 
little  for  practical  life.  Both  embraced  Universahsm,  in  its  earliest  and 
weakest  days,  and  fought  for  it  with  the  aggressiveness  of  the  early  days  to 
the  end."  Mr.  Tyng  was  very  poetic  by  nature,  but  never  penned  his  in- 
spirations in  aught  save  sermons.  He  was  born  in  Maine,  where  the  earlier 
years  of  Hattie's  life  were  spent.  She  was  about  eleven  when  her  par- 
ents removed  to  the  West,  and  settled  in  Columbus,  Wis.  Soon  after  their 
removal  she  commenced  writing  for  the  local  papers,  and  by  her  friends  was 
considered  a  prodigy.  She  first  wrote  for  the  New  Covenant  when  it  was 
under  the  control  of  Rev.  L.  B.  Mason.  Her  acquaintance  with  him  led  to  her 
becoming  a  member  of  his  family  when  she  was  about  eighteen  years  old,  and 
she  passed  several  months  teaching  school  in  Winnetka,  HI.,  where  he  resid- 
ed. It  was  here  that  one  of  the  good  little  girls  said  to  another,  who  was 
not  always  on  her  good  behavior:    "Our  teacher  is  a  poetess,  andifyoudo 

15 


2 IN  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

not  look  out,  she  will  rhyme  you  up  iu  the  papers."  That  threat  was 
better  than  a  close  of  the  "oil  of  birch."  Very  soon  after  Rev.  D.  P. 
Livermore  took  the  editorial  charge  of  the  New  Covenant,  aud  she  com- 
menced a  pleasant  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  M.  A.  Livermore,  who  assisted 
her  in  many  ways,  showing  her  great  kindness  and  attention.  Long  before 
this,  however,  she  was  a  regularly  established  contributor  to  the  "New  York 
Home  Journal,"  then  under  the  control  of  N.  P.  Willis,  who  made  it  a  most 
delightful  paper,  and  to  the  "Knickerbocker  Magazine,"  which  at  that  time 
was  the  leading  magazine  of  the  country.  It  was  edited  by  Charles  G.  Le- 
land.  Mrs.  Griswold  established  a  permanent  friendship  with  both  of  these 
editors,  which  was  pleasant  and  useful  to  her.  N.  P.  Willis  said  of  her: 
"Her  imaginings  are  delicate,  and  the  simplicity  with  which  she  expresses  her 
thoughts  charms  me." 

She  was  at  this  time  writing  stories  for  several  papers  and  periodicals, 
for  which  she  received  remuneration.  She  was  a  contributor  to  the  "Old 
and  New,"  "Christian  Register,"  "Boston  Commonwealth,"  and  other  publi- 
cations. She  does  not  write  as  much  as  formerly,  as  she  finds  an  all-en- 
grossing felicity  in  quiet  domestic  cares. 

After  writing  to  Mrs.  Griswold  for  the  facts  in  her  life's  history,  soon 
came  this  reply:  "I  shall  be  very  happy  to  comply  with  any  request  you  make 
which  is  in  my  power,  and  proud  to  occupy  a  place  in  your  book,  but  the 
few  facts  in  my  life  woidd  not  fill  a  page  of  your  book,  'for  I  tread  with  quiet 
feet  the  rounds  of  uneventful  years.'  " 

In  1863  Hattie  Tyng  was  married  to  Eugene  Sherwood  Griswold,  a  mer- 
chant in  the  village  where  she  resided,  and  where  she  still  lives.  Her  home 
is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  attractive  in  the  city,  in  which  her  friends 
are  sure  to  receive  a  most  graceful  and  hospitable  reception.  In  1803  she 
wrote  a  long  story,  entitled  "Fate  and  Faith."  It,  was  published  as  a  serial 
in  the  "Ladies' Repository,"  and  breathed  the  spirit  of  Universalism,  though 
it  was  more  a  struggle  after  the  "eternal  verities"  of  God  and  immortality. 

During  the  war  she  wrote  a  great  deal  upon  that  subject,  both  prose  and 
poetry,  for  "Harper's  Weekly"  and  the  leading  Western  papers.  Some  of 
her  articles  stimulated  the  patriotism  and  courage  of  the  boys,  while  others 
helped  tbe  mothers  to  bow  more  submissively  to  his  will. 


HATTIE  TYNG  GRISWOLD.  210 

The  first  edition  of  her  poems,  "Apple  Blossoms,"  was  published  in  Mil- 
waukee, by  Strickland,  in  1874;  the  second  edition  by  Jansen,  McClurg  & 
Co.,  Chicago,  in  1877.  Mrs.  Griswold  continued  a  regular  contributor  to  the 
New  Covenant  after  Dr.  Hanson  took  control,  in  18G9,  until  it  united  with 
"The  Star  in  the  West,"  and  still  (1881)  communicates  with  the  public 
through  its  pages  in  prose  and  verse.  Following  is  the  editor's  opinion  of 
Mrs.  Griswold's  writing : 

"Mrs.  Griswold,  our  favorite  and  principal  poetical  contributor,  is  the 
best  of  all  the  many  women  of  the  West  who  sing  in  the  ear  of  the  public 
what  their  souls  experience.  She  can  scarcely  be  said  to  rank  with  those 
who  'learn  in  suffering  what  they  teach  in  song,'  for  her  life  seems  to  have 
passed  along  serene  paths.  Thoughtfulness,  a  high  ethical  sense,  great  puri- 
ty of  spirit,  expressed  in  choice  language  and  with  a  rythmical  elegance, 
characterize  her  poems.  In  every  sense  of  the  word  she  is  a  poet;  and  yet, 
choice  as  are  her  rhymes,  she  is  even  superior  as  a  prose  writer.  On  any 
moral  theme  that  enlists  her  sympathies,  her  pen  possesses  great  vigor  and 
point.  Were  she  compelled  to  write  daily  for  the  press  she  would  achieve 
the  highest  excellence.  She  ranks  very  high  among  American  writers,  both 
prose  and  poetical.  Her  '  Three  Kisses'  has  gone  the  rounds  of  the  press 
several  times,  ascribed  to  Mrs.  Browning,  of  whom  it  is  every  way  worthy; 
and  'Under  the  Daisies'  would  honor  any  author,  living  or  dead." 

THREE    KISSES. 

I  have  three  kisses  in  my  life. 

So  sweet  and  sacred  unto  me, 
That  now,  till  death- dews  on  them  rest, 

My  lips  shall  ever  kissless  be. 

One  kiss  was  given  in  childhood's  hour. 

By  one  who  never  gave  another; 
Through  life  and  death  I  still  shall  feel 

That  last  kiss  of   my  mother. 

The  next  kiss  burned   my   lips  for   years; 

For  years  my  wild  heart  reeled  in  bliss. 
At  every  memory  of  that  hour 

When  my  lips  felt  young  love's  first  kiss. 


220  OUR     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

The  last  kiss  of  the  sacred  three 

Hal  all  the  woe  which  e'er  can  move 

The  heart  of  woman;  it  was  pressed 
Upon  the  dead  lips  of  my  love. 

When  lips  have  felt  the  dying  kiss, 
And  felt  the  kiss  of  burning  love, 

And  kissed  the  dead,  then  nevermore 
In  kissing  should  they  think  to  move. 


UNDER    THE    DAISIES. 

I  have  just  been  learning  the  lesson  of  life— 

The  sad,  sad  lesson  of  loving, 
And  all  of  its  power  for  pleasure  or  pain 

Been  slowly,  sadly  proving; 
And  all  that  is  left  of  the  bright,  bright  dream, 

With  its  thousand  brilliant  phases, 
Is  a  handful  of  dust  in  a  coffin  hid— 

A  coffin  under  the   daisies: 

The  beautiful,  beautiful  daisies, 

The  snowy,  snowy  daisies. 

And  thus  forever,  throughout  the  world, 

Is  love  a  sorrow  proving; 
There's  many  a  sad,  sad  thing  in  life, 

But  the  saddest  of  all  is  loving. 
Life  often  divides  far  wider  than  death, 

Stern  fortune  the  high  wall  raises; 
But  better  far  than  two  hearts  estranged, 

Is  a  low  grave  starred  with  daisies: 

The  beautiful,  beautiful  daisies, 

The  snowy,  snowy   daisies. 

And  so  I  am  glad  that  we  lived  as  we  did, 

Through  the  Summer  of  love  together. 
And  that  one  of  us,  wearied,  lay  down  to  rest, 

Ere  the  coming  of  Winter  weather; 
For  the  sadness  of  love  is  love  grown  cold, 

And  'tis  one  of  its  surest  phases; 
So  I  bless  my  God,  with  a  breaking  heart, 

For  that  grave  enstarred  with  daisies: 

The  beautiful,  beautiful   daisies, 

The  snowy,  snowy  daisies. 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD.  221 

The  saying  that  "one  touch  of  nature  makes  the  whole  world  kin,"  was 
never  better  illustrated  than  in  the  ease  of  the  little  song,  "Under  the  Daisies." 
It  has  seemed  to  go  straight  to  the  hearts  of  all  sorts  of  people.  Many 
touching  examples  proving  this  are  transpiring  daily.  It  is  taken  to  the 
hearts  of  mothers  who  have  laid  their  little  ones  to  rest,  and  been  of  untold 
comfort  to  all  mourners.  The  secret  is  here,  it  will  start  the  flow  of  tears, 
and  that  saves  many  a  heart  from  breaking.  In  many  a  cemetery  we  find  this 
inscription  engraven  on  the  stones,  taken  from  "Under  the  Daises,"  "All 
that  is  left  of  the  bright,  bright  dream."  Many  must  have  read  in  a  Milwaukee 
paper  an  incident  which  occurred  to  a  lady  who  was  visiting  in  an  out-of-the- 
way  country  place.  She  accompanied  a  friend  to  the  funeral  of  a  young 
married  lady,  who  had  just  moved  into  the  town,  and  the  audience  was  com- 
posed mostly  of  strangers,  and  there  was  but  a  single  mourner — the  husband. 
The  minister  preached  and  prayed  in  a  perfunctory  sort  of  way ;  no  feeling 
was  displayed  by  any  one,  and  the  writer  says  she  was  nearly  wearied  out  by 
the  ceremony,  when  a  good  choir  of  singers,  by  the  request  of  the  dear  lady 
just  before  she  died,  sang  "Under  the  Daisies."  She  described  the  effect  as 
electrical.  The  whole  audience  was  quickened  into  life,  and  almost  at  the 
same  breath  broke  into  a  storm  of  sobs.  It  was  the  one  touch  of  nature 
needed  to  start  the  quick -flowing  founts  of  sympathy. 

A  young  lady,  beautiful  and  attractive,  whose  life  had  apparently  run 
in  the  smoothest  of  channels,  while  dying  requested  her  brother  and  sister, 
who  had  often  sung  the  song  with  her,  to  sing  it  once  more.  It  was  a  very 
trying  thing  for  them  to  do,  and  was  attempted  reluctantly  and  finished  with 
difficulty.  "I  shall  soon  be  with  him  now,"  she  whispered,  thus  betraying 
to  them  a  secret  which  no  soul  had  ever  suspected,  and  with  the  last  strains 
of  the  song  she  passed  away. 

I  could  repeat  many  similar  incidents  to  prove  that  that  song  has  the 
one  touch  of  nature  in  it  that  unites  all  hearts  in  sympathy. 

Mrs.  J.  Hiles  writes:  "Among  the  fewr  women  of  Wisconsin  whose 
names  have  become  more  than  local,  perhaps  Hattie  Tyng  Griswold's  stands 
out  more  prominently  than  any  other.  It  stands  on  amount,  which  is  some- 
thing like  Mount  Tabor  of  old,  so  pure  are  the  rays  which  illuminate  it;  rays 
winch  are  both  an  emanation  and  a  gathering  together.     From  herself  pro- 


222  OUE   WOMAN    WORKEES. 

ceeds  her  brightest  light.  The  spaces  nearest  her — the  hearts  of  her  husband 
and  children — receive  first  its  warmth  and  generating  influence ;  her  home 
is  lighted  from  within.  It  is  the  tenderness  of  the  husband,  the  love  of  the 
child,  not  the  admiration  of  the  reader,  which  folds  Hattie  Tyng  Griswold  in 
its  caressing  and  protecting  arms;  and  from  her  home  as  a  center,  her  ben- 
efactions go  out  into  an  ever- widening  circumference.  There  are  no  strains 
in  the  music  of  her  life  so  sweet  to  her  as  the  voices  of  her  children;  no 
words  of  approval  so  cherished  as  those  with  which  her  husband  delights  'to 
give  her  honor.'  It  is  the  woman,  and  then  the  writer;  it  is  the  writer 
because  of  the  woman.  The  atmosphere  of  her  own  home  was  filled  with 
the  sweet  scent  of  'Apple  Blossoms'  before  their  delicate  pink  and  white 
petals  were  scattered  in  many  homes,  and  garnered  with  their  fragrance  into 
many  lives.  There  are  small  circumferences,  about  this  center  with  which 
the  reading  public  has  had  little  to  do.  Mrs.  Griswold  has  led  locally  in 
the  temperance  cause  for  years.  Since  a  child  her  sympathies  have  been 
active  for  the  drunkard  and  his  family,  and  her  efforts  unceasing  for  their 
help  and  cure.  She  is  president  of  the  Women's  Christian  Temperance 
Union,  a  local  organization,  and  president  of  the  'Youths'  Alliance,'  a  child's 
organization  for  similar  work,  and  for  the  personal  temperance  of  its  mem- 
bers. She  has  supplemented  these  labors  with  many  written  articles,  and 
her  influence  exerted  in  the  cause  of  temperance  has  been  a  living,  vital  one. 
The  subject  of  associated  charities  is  engaging  her  attention,  and  although 
the  small  town  in  which  she  lives  has  no  especial  need  for  an  organized  effort 
of  this  kind,  still  her  heart  and  brain  take  in  humanity  in  a  wider  range, 
and  her  pen  gives  to  the  world  the  result  of  the  study  and  thought  she  has 
given  to  the  subject.  Included  in  these  benefactions,  Mrs.  Griswold's  hand 
has  ever  been  outstretched  to  the  poor  and  needy  in  their  own  homes.  Her 
Christianity  holds  all  these — home,  humanity,  labor,  in  solution,  and  they 
are  crystallized  into  thought  and  action  whenever  an  occasion  presents  itself. 
I  have  written  of  her  as  a  woman ;  she  writes  what  such  a  woman  must 
write,  if  she  writes  at  all.  Those  who  have  read  her  book,  'Apple  Blossoms,' 
have  found  it  replete  with  her  love  for,  and  interest  in,  humanity,  as  well  as 
in  true  poetic  thought.  Who  has  not  known  and  sung  and  loved  '  Under 
the  Daisies'  ?     That  is  but  one  of  the  many  poems  in  the  book  which  deal 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD.  223 

with  the  sweetest,  saddest,  deepest  of  love's  and  life's  philosophies.  The 
clear,  hazel-grey  eyes  of  the  woman  looked  toward  the  center  of  life's  most 
hidden  and  least,  understood  meanings,  and  with  listening  ear  caught  the 
refrain  of  the  first  song  which  was  ever  sung  —Love  to  Grod,  and  Love  in 
Humanity  — and  in  her  own  way,  and  with  the  strength  given  to  her,  she 
has  done  the  work  given  her  to  do." 

Mrs.  S.  D.  Hobart,  one  of  the  brilliant  women  of  Wisconsin,  writes: 
"  1 1  attic  Tyng  Griswold  is  a  name  fondly  and  tenderly  spoken  in  many  a  home, 
East  and  West.  From  the  time  when,  a  school  girl  herself,  she  won  the 
hearts  of  school  girls  by  her  merry,  rollicking  stories  of  girl-life,  to  the  days 
when,  older  and  sadder  grown,  the  woes  of  suffering  humanity  forced  from 
her  pen  the  deep-thoughted,  earnest  poems  of  later  years,  she  has  had  a 
strong  hold  upon  the  sympathies  and  affections  of  her  readers.  She  has 
always  something  to  say  of  which  some  soul  stands  in  need,  and  she  is  strong 
and  brave  in  the  utterance  of  her  thought,  despite  the  fears  and  prejudices 
of  the  masses.  Many  a  soul,  sinking  beneath  its  weight  of  sorrow  and 
despair,  lias  turned  to  her  for  relief  and  found  help  and  comfort.  The  pang 
which  pierced  her  mother-heart  when  she  laid  her  little  one  '  beneath  the 
buttercups,'  has  bound  her  soul  in  indissoluble  union  to  those  of  heart- 
stricken  mothers  all  over  the  land.  Many  are  the  letters  she  receives  from 
those  who  are  mourning  their  lost,  thanking  her  for  the  tender,  loving  poems 
which  have  strengthened  her  own  faith  and  soothed  her  own  sorrow,  and  are 
helping  others  to  lift  their  eyes  to  the  Light  that  shines  from  beyond  the 
tomb. 

"  It  is  much  to  say  of  a  poet  that  he  or  she  has  written  as  fine,  sweet 
verse  as  our  language  boasts;  but  far  better  to  be  able  to  say  that  the  life 
the  poet  has  carved  from  the  yielding  rock  of  time  is  pure,  sweet  and  com- 
plete, a  help  and  inspiration  to  weaker  souls.  Not  what  we  accomplish,  but 
what  we  are!  that  is  the  true  test;  and  even  though  the  few  volumes  of 
poems  which  Mrs.  Griswold  has  published  should  be  all  the  literary  record 
that  she  shall  leave  when  her  work  is  done,  those  who  have  known  and 
loved  her  will  recall  a  brighter  record  of  pure,  womanly  deeds,  and  tender, 
loving,  inspiring  words,  which  she  lias  left  in  the  hearts  of  her  friends.  Al- 
ways ready  to  extend  a  helping  hand  to  the  needy  and  distressed;   gener<m> 


224  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

and  hospitable,  her  kindly  ministrations  have  brightened  many  a  home;  and 
that  so  carefully,  avoiding  all  ostentation  in  her  charities,  that  only  the  recip- 
ients know  of  her  kindly  deeds ;  grateful  hearts  remember  her  as  the  one  who 
cared  for  them  when  others  forgot  them,  and  never  put  her  pleasure  or  con- 
venience before  their  necessities. 

"  Drawn  by  the  strong  ties  of  intellectual  congeniality  to  the  class  of 
busy  toilers  in  the  world  of  mind,  her  home  is  the  rendezvous  of  earnest 
thinkers,  eager  young  students,  and  ambitious  aspirants  for  literary  honors. 
To  each  and  all  she  tenders  advice  or  sympathy  as  the  case  requires,  and  her 
well- selected  library  is  at  the  disposal  of  any  hungry  mind  longing  for  the 
ripe  fruit  of  knowledge. 

"  The  lives  which  bless  and  brighten  our  paths  are  but  for  the  moment; 
a  word,  a  look,  and  they  are  gone;  but  when  the  ocean  of  eternity  surging 
forever  beneath  our  feet  has  engulfed  our  dearest  beneath  its  waves,  may  we 
be  able  to  say  of  each  and  all  of  our  loved  ones  as  of  this  poet-friend,  '  Her 
life  was  worth  living,  for  it  benefited  mankind! '  " 

A  thrilling  incident  is  related  by  Mrs.  M.  A.  Livermore : 

"Two  hues  of  the  little  poem,  entitled  'Dead,'  bore  me  through  the 
horrors  of  the  awful  war,  through  which  I  waded  neck-deep.  As  the  dead 
were  brought  in  from  the  battlefield  or  were  carried  out  from  the  overflow- 
ing hospitals,  I  used  to  repeat  to  myself  the  two  lines : 

He  who  for  country  dies,  dies  not, 
But  liveth  evermore! 

and  was  comforted,  and  I  remember  how  once — in  a  time  of  great  mortality 
—When  twenty-six  brave  fellows  lay  in  their  coffins,  and  four  times  that 
number  were  dying  in  the  hospital,  and  there  was  only  depression  and  sad- 
ness everywhere,  I  electrified  the  eight  hundred  who  were  within  sound  of  my 
voice  by  saying: 

"Brothers,  remember  in  what  cause  you  are  suffering  and  enduring — 
the  cause  of  the  country  and  humanity,  and  remember  that 

Ho  who  for  country  dies,  dies  not, 
lint,   livclli   evermore! 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD.  225 

It  was  a  tonic   to  the  depressed  hearts  of  the  poor  fellows,  and  at  their  re- 
quest I  wrote  the  two  lines  in  scores  of  their  note-hooks. 

DEAD! 

Dead!  dead  on  the  field  of  battle, 

'Mid  its  awful  crash  and  roar; 
Dead!  gone  <>n  the  last  Long  marching. 

To  the  land  where  nevermore 
Shall  the  bugle  sound  reveille, 

Or  the  dreadful  cannon  roar. 

Dead!    .lead  on   the  field  of  battle. 

A  gallant    heart,   and    tried; 
Close,  close  to  the  foremost  standard, 

Where  the  fiercest  warriors   ride, 
Where  men  fell  like  leaves  in  Autumn. 

And  where   he  fell,  and  died. 

Dead!   dead  on  the  field  of  battle, 

With  his  name  and  his  honors  white— 

There's  nothing  on  earth  so  glorious 
As  dying  for  the    right, 

Thank  God  he  died  'mid  the  foremost. 
In  the  fiercest  of  the  fight. 

Dead!    dead  on  the  field  of  battle; 

Could  he  be  alive  once  more. 
We  would  bid  him  go,  and  do.  and  die, 

'Mid  the  battle's  rush  and  roar. 
He  who  for  country  dies,  dies  not, 

But  lives  forevennore. 

"The  other  simple  little  poem  entitled  'My  Darling,'  moved  me  power- 
fully. D —  and  I  read  it  together,  with  tears  in  our  eyes,  thinking  of  the 
little  grave  by  the  sea  in  which  our  first-born  was  laid  to  sleep,  on  her  filth 
birthday.  It  made  me  weep,  as  it  will  others,  and  any  writer  who  coidd  write 
these  two  little  things  has  proved  her  right  to  the  title  of  one  of  the  poets 
who  are  born — not  made." 

MY    DARLING. 

How  can  I  mourn  for  a  little  one   dead, 

When  I  gaze  on  this  world  of  weeping? 
Far  better  to   smile   with   a  deep   content, 

O'er  a  baby  quietly  sleeping, 


226  OTJE    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

O'er  a  little  one  safe  from  all  that  can  harm, 
Safe,  and  quietly  sleeping. 

The  sun  comes  up,  and  the  sun  goes  down 

On  sorrow,  and  sin,  and  aching, 
And  to  all  the  evil  that's  in  the  world. 

My  darling  will  know  no  waking: 
He  is  wrapped  in  that  dream  of  sweetness  and  calm 

That  will  know  no  cruel  waking. 

My  heart  grows  sick  and  faint  with  the  thought 

Of  the  great  world's  burden  of  sinning; 
I  am  glad,  I  am  glad  that  in  evil  and  wrong 

My  darling  will  make  no  beginning; 
He  is  safe  in  his  soft  and  mossy  bed. 

From  the  blight  and  the  pang  of  sinning. 

Then  mourn  no  more  for  a  little  one  dead, 

Fond  heart  worn  out  with  thy  weeping; 
Far  better  to  smile  with  a  deep  content, 

O'er  a  baby  quietly  sleeping; 
He  is  safe,  he  is  safe,  from  all  that  is  sad. 

Safe,  and  quietly  sleeping. 

W.  H.  Bishop  (the  "Atlantic"  contributor)  thus  speaks: 

"There  ia  a  serene,  helpful  spirit  and  effect  in  many  of  the  graver  por- 
tions of  the  book.  It  contains  teachings  as  well  as  aesthetic  entertainment  for 
its  readers,  which  every  book  in  this  day  of  endless  book-making  must  do  to 
have  readers.  It  has  thought,  and  experience,  and  faith  to  bring  to  those 
who  are  already  far  involved  in  the  problems  of  life,  while  it  is  not  without 
enough  of  a  purely  artistic  appreciation  and  use  of  beauty  to  make  it  an  ap- 
propriate souvenir  to  those  whom  the  seasons  have  hardly  yet  assailed,  who 
are  themselves  the  apple  blossoms  in  the  orchard  of  life." 

Alice  Cary  in  1861 : 

"Write  out  of  your  own  heart,  from  your  own  experience  and  observa- 
tion, and  you  will  find  a  constantly  increasing  audience.  But  to  one  who 
writes  so  well  and  chooses  her  themes  so  admirably,  I  need  hardly  give  this 
advice." 

Mary  A.  Livermore  in  I860: 

"You  have  superior  poetical  abilities,  and  whenever  my  eye  is  arrested 


HATTIE    TYNG    GRISWOLD.  227 

by  your  name,  I  always  read  the  poem  that  follows,  and  always  with  very 

great  delight." 

Charles  G.  Leland,  Editor  of  "  Knickerbocker,"  writes  in  1862: 

"Your 'Thank  God  for  War'  is  glorious — after  my  own  heart — free  and 

wild  as  a  lava  flood.       The    spirit  of  it  is  superb.     Do  you  remember  the 

'Fisherman  and  Genie'?     You  rise  up  in  that  poem  beyond  your  earlier  ones 

as  the  Afreet  did." 


THE    MISSING    SHIP. 

From  out  a  sheltered,  sunny  bay, 

With  -white  sails  rustling  in  the   breeze 

Tin'  proud  ship  like  a  sea-gull  swept, 
Across  tin-  distant,  purple  seas. 

But  somewhere  on  the  foaming  deep. 
The  ship  for  angry  waves  was  sport, 

And  all   we  know  Is  that  she  ne'er 

Dropped  anchor  in  the  wished-for  port. 

And  many   an   anxious,  troubled  heart 

Cries  "Where  is  she?"  with  trembling  lip; 

God  only  knows,  for  shades  surround 
That  dreamy  thing,  a  missing  ship. 

In  the  broad  sea.  Humanity, 

A  gallant  bark  with  us  set  sail, 
But  drifting  on,  our  courses  changed 

With   tie'    flrsl    rising  of  the  gale; 

And  we   have   spoken   many  a  sail. 

And  waited  answer  with  white  lip. 
In  hopes  t"   hear   from   one   who  is 

To  us  through  life— a  missing  ship. 

But  never  sounds  the  welcome  name. 
When   trumpets   answer  o'er  the   sea; 

Yet  "Sail   ahoy!"  still   starts  the  thought 
That   this  the  missing  craft  may  be. 

Is  she  afloat,  a  shattered  wreck. 
Or  lies  she  deep  in  coral  caves. 

Or  is  she  where  those  floating  bergs 
Wedge   tliHin   within   their  icy  graves? 


228  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

We  cannot  know  until  we  gain 

That  port,  for  which  we  all  are  bound; 

But  there  we  know  all  sails   will  meet, 
And  every  missing  ship  be  found. 


CROSSES. 


Oh,  ye  stars  that  shine  in  such  peerless  glory. 

Making  the  whole  dark  night-world  glad. 
Ye  beam  as  brightly  as  though  the  story 

Of  this  dark  life  were  not  so  sad. 
Do  ye  not  hear,  through  the  rush  of  spheres. 

And  the  holy  songs  of  the  morning  stars, 
The  sighs  of  the  weary  and  heavy   laden. 

And  the  shrieks  that  break  through  fetters  and  bars? 
Can  ye  not  see  earth's  pilgrims  sitting 

Down  by  the  wayside,  counting  their   losses. 
And  sad  hearts  toiling  up  life's  steep  hillside. 
Bearing  their  crosses? 

Have  ye  not  kind  hearts  that  tremble  with  pity 

For  those  whose  visions  pierce  not  the  thick  gloom 
Which  lies  in  the  space  'twixt  the  beautiful  city, 

And  the  damp,  low  chambers  of  earth's  cold  tomb? 
Do  you  not  feel  for  those  who  are  crying 

In  each  Gethsemane  all  o'er  the  land. 
For  the  tone  of  a  voice  that  forever  is  silent. 

For  the  thrill  of  dead  lips,  or  the  touch  of  a  hand? 
Do  ye  not  see  low  graves  in  each  hollow. 

Bedded  with  grass,  and  heavy  with  mosses. 
And  all  around  them  such  sad,  silent  mourners. 
Bearing  their  crosses? 

And  can  ye  look,  bright  stars  of  the  midnight, 

On  all  these  things  without  thrilling  with  woe? 
Do  not  this  care,  and  sorrow,  and  earth-blight 

Make   it   look   dark    as   ye   gaze   down   below? 
Or  do  these  things,  from  tin'  height  whence  ye  view  them, 

Look  to  you  only  as  motes  on  life's  glass? 
And  shall   we  all   view  them  thus  when,  life  ended, 

Over  death's  bridge  we  in  triumph  shall   pass? 
Shall   we   bless   <:<><1   then,   that   thus   he   hath  sent  us. 

Through  these  dark  life-paths,  counting  our  losses, 
And,  sad  and  heavy,  up  life's  steep  hillside 
Bearing  our  erosses? 


LENA    STAKT.  229 


LENA     START. 

Mrs.  Start  is  the  daughter  of  Rev.  D.  T.  Stevens,  of  Maine,  and  the 
wife  of  Rev.  W.  A.  Start,  formerly  settled  in  Massachusetts  and  Illinois,  and 
for  a  time  joint  editor  and  publisher  of  the  Chicago  "New  Covenant,"  and 
recently  the  efficient  State  Superintendent  of  the  Massachusetts  Universalist 
Convention. 

In  childhood,  Lena's  mind  was  very  religiously  inclined,  and  in  extreme 
youth  she  appreciated  the  doctrine  of  a  world's  salvation.  She  was  apt  in 
argument,  and  her  verbal  contests  with  her  mates  of  the  partial  faith,  proved 
that  her  parents  had  not  been  unmindful  or  careless  of  her  culture,  either  in 
the  theory  of  Universalism  or  its  practical  qualities.  Her  essays  on  "Practi- 
cal Universalism,"  printed  in  the  "Ladies'  Repository,"  and  on  "The  Culture 
of  Woman,"  do  Mrs.  Start  credit;  and  an  article  entitled  "Snow-bound"  is 
very  poetical.  She  was  a  contributor  to  the  "  Myrtle,"  and  has  from  youth 
been  accustomed  to  write  for  the  press. 

She  is  an  earnest  worker  in  the  temperance  cause,  and  her  lectures  are 
of  uniform  excellence.  One' delivered  before  a  committee  of  the  Massachu- 
setts Legislature,  in  1880,  was  so  highly  commended  that  it  must  have  been 
very  gratifying  to  Mrs.  Start,  who  is  one  of  our  most  conscientious,  modest, 
but  faithful  workers. 


JULIA    E.   OUTLAW 


This  faithful  and  persevering  woman  organized  a  Sunday-school  at  Out- 
law's Bridge,  Duplin  Co.,  North  Carolina,  the  first  Sunday  in  July,  1869, 
with  only  fourteen  pupils,  and  with  all  the  opposition  that  the  old-fashioned  prej- 
udices could  surround  her  with.  She  was  belied  and  maligned,  and  the  young 
people  were  told  by  their  parents  that  they  were  opposed  to  fishing  and  hunt- 


230  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

ing  on  Sundays,  but  would  much  prefer  to  have  them  engage  in  that  than  to 
have  them  attend  Mrs.  Outlaw's  Sunday- school.  And  the  children  of  such 
parents  did  not  at  first  take  an  active  part  in  the  school ;  would  only  read  hi 
the  Bible  and  sing,  and  listen  to  Mrs.  Outlaw's  explanations,  and  their  faces 
would  light  up  with  real  gladness  whenever  she  cleared  the  mist  from  any 
passage  of  Scripture.  One  good  old  Baptist  said  (and  we  have  no  doubt  that 
she  was  honest,  and  prayed  for  what  she  thought  was  right)  the  only  thing 
that  she  ever  prayed  earnestly  for  that  was  not  granted  her,  was  the  down- 
fall of  that  Sunday-school.  "But,"  Mrs.  Outlaw  says,  "thanks  be  to  God, 
instead  of  its  downfall,  success  crowned  our  efforts,  for  our  little  school  grad- 
ually increased  until  at  one  time  it  numbered  about  sixty,  and  the  daily  lives 
of  those  children  we  were  proud  of.  They  kept  the  Sabbath  in  Christ's  own 
way."  At  least  one  hundred  have  been  connected  with  that  school,  and  it 
can  be  no  small  pleasure  for  one  woman  to  feel  that  she  has  been  the  means 
of  sending  out  into  the  world  one  hundred  Universalists  to  benefit  and  bless  it. 

And  it  must  be  remembered  that  Mrs.  Outlaw  had  but  few  friends  to 
help  her,  and  the  most  of  them  were  poor;  but  they  did  not  grow  languid  Or 
listless  in  their  work,  nor  did  their  spirits  droop.  Although  they  had  dark 
and  gloomy  days,  the  bright  and  sunny  days  were  so  interspersed  that  cour- 
age never  gave  out.  "Our  friends  were  many  in  the  North;  books  and 
papers  began  to  flow  in  to  us  from  all  quarters.  From  Mrs.  Soule  alone  we 
received  between  sixty  and  seventy  dollars'  worth.  Mrs.  Soule  and  all  others 
who  assisted  us  in  those  days  will  always  be  remembered  in  our  prayers. 
The  books  and  papers  cheered  the  hearts  of  the  older  ones  as  well  as  the 
lambs  of  the  flock,  and  their  smiling  faces  and  happy  hearts  are  photographed 
upon  my  memory.  Many  who  were  quite  small  twelve  years  ago  are  grown 
men  and  women,  and  although  I  am  not  with  them  now,  the  school  goes  on 
under  their  superintendence."  At  Outlaw's  Bridge,  as  the  fruit  of  the  work 
of  this  woman,  a  little  church  edifice  stands  near  the  school-house  where  the 
Sunday-school  used  to  meet,  and  an  organization  of  twenty  members,  nine 
of  whom  were  regularly  attendant  members  of  the  Sunday-school.  "If  we 
could  have  had  regular  preaching,  Universalism  would  have  swept  everything 
in  its  rapid  march." 

This  indefatigable  woman  lias  organized  a  Sunday-school  in  Dover,  N. 


EDNA    CHAFFEE    NOBLE.  281 

C,  her  new  home.  She  commenced  with  twenty  members,  composed  of 
children  from  Methodist,  Baptist  and  Universalist  parents,  and  says:  "Al- 
though our  school  is  small  now,  1  think  we  shall  he  able  to  do  some  good;  for 
when  our  glorious  doctrine  is  rightly  understood  it  will  cause  prejudice  to 
give  way,  and  then  the  hidden  beauties  of  the  Bible,  that  otherwise  lie  un- 
seen, unappreciated,  and  uncultivated,  would  soon  blossom  as  the  rose;  and 
men  would  learn  to  worship  the  Father  in  the  beauty  of  holiness,  and  to  love 
him  because  he  first  loved  us.  Praying  God's  blessing  on  our  cause  and 
your  good  work,  I  remain  yours  in  Christ." 


EDNA   CHAFFEE    NOBLE. 

The  following  is  written  by  a  friend  of  Mrs.  Noble,  whom  long  and 
intimate  acquaintance  qualifies  to  speak  from  knowledge  and  appreciation  of 
the  woman  and  the  elocutionist: 

"On  the  12th  day  of  August,  18-46,  Edna  Jane  Chaffee  first  saw  the 
light  through  the  windows  of  a  little  farm-house,  nestled  among  the  green 
hills  near  Bochester,  Vt.  Her  girlhood  passed  without  especial  incident,  and 
so  her  school  life,  to  the  culminating  event  to  which  we  shall  refer.  At 
the  commencement  of  her  teaching,  which  continued  for  some  twenty  terms, 
she  was  waited  upon  by  a  certain  'committee,'  who  wished  her  to  take  charge 
of  a  school  in  which  the  retiring  principal  had  been  of  the  opposite  sex.  She 
would  'undertake  the  work  at  the  same  salary  which  he  had  received.' 

"  'No,  no,'  said  the  committee,  'we  can't  pay  you  that.  We  want  you,  of 
course;  but  we  can  get  any  quantity  of  women  to  take  the  place  for  less 
money.' 

"'Get  them,  then!'  replied  Miss  Chaffee;  'if  you  can  find  women  who 
are  willing  to  do  a  man's  work  for  less  than  a  man's  wages,  you  had  better 
secure  their  services.     You  can't  have  mine.' 

"The  committee  withdrew  and  consulted,  and  proposed  again,  but  with 
the  same  result.     Then,  after  two  or  three  more  consultations  and  proposals, 


232  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

they  gave  her  the  school;  and  she  taught  it,  and  taught  it  well.  But  they 
paid  her  a  man's  wages.  The  firmness  displayed  in  this  little  passage-at- 
arrns  with  the  committee  furnishes  the  key  to  Mrs.  Noble's  character. 
Mingled  with  the  natural  sweetness  and  generosity  of  her  disposition,  it  is 
this  which  draws  so  many  to  respect,  esteem  and  love  her. 

"During  the  last  years  Miss  Chaffee  spent  as  school-teacher,  she  lost  her 
voice  through  overwork  (she  ordinarily  taught  forty-eight  weeks  out  of  fifty- 
two),  and  she  wrote  to  Boston  to  ascertain  the  best  teacher  of  vocal  culture 
there.  Moses  T.  Brown,  Professor  of  Elocution  at  Tufts  College,  was  recom- 
mended, and  at  the  close  of  her  school  she  began  study  with  him.  Her 
efforts  for  a  time  seemed  unavailing,  for  she  was  seriously  iU  for  several 
weeks  after  her  first  attempts.  On  recovery,  however,  she  began  again,  and 
progressed  so  rapidly  that  in  about  three  months  she  was  able  to  use  her 
voice  in  ordinary  conversation.  She  then  studied  for  a  year  with  Prof. 
Brown,  and  afterward  began  reading  and  teaching  reading.  One  of  her  first 
engagements  was  at  the  St.  Lawrence  University,  Canton,  N.  Y.,  where  she 
taught  in  the  Theological  Department  for  three  years;  making,  during  the 
time,  an  extended  reading-trip  throughout  the  West.  March  14,  1871,  she 
was  married  to  Dr.  Henry  S.  Noble,  whom  she  had  first  met  at  Woodstock, 
and  removed  with  him  to  Chester,  Vt.,  where  she  lived  until  1877.  Mar- 
riage, for  her,  did  not  mean  release  from  the  task  to  which  she  had  set  her 
hand;  and  at  her  home  there  gradually  gathered  students  from  both  the 
Eastern  and  Western  States,  attracted  by  her  growing  reputation.  Her 
labors  with  these  were  varied  by  frequent  courses  of  readings  through  the 
East,  one  of  which  was  given  in  aid  of  the  Ladies'  New  England  Centennial 
Fund.  In  the  Fall  of  1877,  Mrs.  Noble  visited  friends  in  Michigan,  and 
after  a  time  became  engaged  in  reading  and  teaching  there.  Her  reception 
in  Detroit,  and  the  success  of  her  classes  in  that  city,  being  so  far  beyond 
what  she  had  any  reason  to  expect,  she  decided  to  return  the  following  sea- 
son and  carry  out  her  long-cherished  design  of  organizing  a  school  after  the 
plan  of  those  of  Shoemaker  in  Philadelphia,  Frobisher  in  New  York,  and 
Monroe  in  Boston.  This  was  the  beginning  of  the  'Detroit  Training  School 
in  Elocution  and  English  Literature,'  which  has  thus  far  proved  the  crown- 


C.    F.     ROCKWELL.  233 

ing  effort  of  her  life.  This  school  graduated  its  first  class  on  May  24,  1881, 
and  has  an  average  yearly  attendance  of  two  hundred  and  fifty  students. 

"During  the  last  few  years  of  her  work,  Mrs.  Noble  has  been  obliged  to 
contend  against  great  physical  weakness;  but  the  courage  and  endurance 
which  she  has  displayed  in  carrying  out  her  plans,  have  shown  how  deeply 
grounded  in  her  character  is  that  stability  of  purpose  with  which  she  over- 
came the  committee-men.  One  of  her  favorite  mottoes  is,  'This  one  thing  will 
I  do;'  and  the  steadfastness  and  purity  of  intention  with  which  she  has  pur- 
sued her  ideal  since  she  first  became  aware  of  what  her  life-work  really  was 
to  be,  will  be  an  incentive  and  an  example  to  us  all. 

"Those  who  come  within  the  sphere  of  her  influence  rarely  know  whence 
flows  that  sweetness  and  strength  which  makes  each  life  better,  and  each 
heart  glow  with  purer  and  higher  aspirations ;  but  the  few  who  are  admitted 
to  her  confidence  realize  that  its  fountain-head  is  in  the  realm  of  past  failures 
which  have  been  forced  into  successes;  triumphs  which  had  all  but  proved 
vanquishings;  faith  which  was  held  fimi  amid  days  of  doubt  and  gloom. 
Truly  of  Edna  Chaffee  Noble  it  may  be  said,  if  said  of  any,  that  'a  life  of 
noble  purposes,  ably  and  artistically  given  to  the  world,  is  a  blessing  to  man- 
kind and  an  honor  to  God.'  " 


C.    F.    ROCKWELL. 

Through  the  influence  of  Mrs.  Rockwell  a  Sunday-school  was  organized 
in  Girard,  Pa.,  in  1862,  which  has  continued  to  the  present  time  (1881). 
During  that  time  she  had  charge  of  the  primary  class  for  several  years,  was 
assistant  superintendent  for  seven  years,  and  is  now  superintendent.  She 
has  been  faithful  in  season  and  out  of  season.  When  teachers  are  scarce  she 
manages  to  supply  their  places,  many  times  carrying  on  more  than  one  class. 
She  says:  "I  often  leave  home  Sunday  mornings  with  a  sad  heart;  discour- 
aged, because  I  do  not  expect  to  see  my  mates  in  the  Sunday-school  to  help 
me  to  teach  the  little  ones  how  to  consecrate  themselves  to  the  work  of  the 

16 


2M  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

church.  (We  need  the  fathers  and  mothers  in  the  Sunday-school! )  I  must 
add  that  as  soon  as  I  see  the  bright,  expectant  faces  of  my  pupils,  I  receive 
a  new  impulse  to  go  on,  and  I  do  go  on  in  the  same  old  way,  from  week  to 
week."  Mrs.  Rockwell  has  her  Sunday-school  concerts,  observes  Easter, 
Floral  Sunday,  Harvest  and  Christmas.  She  has  formed  a  sewing  circle, 
"Merry  Workers,"  and  they  intend  to  do  their  duty  whether  they  have  a 
pastor  or  not.  The  "Guiding  Star"  was  taken  by  the  school  from  the  first  of 
its  publication  to  the  last.  Thirty  copies  of  the  "Myrtle"  are  taken  and  dis- 
tributed through  the  school. 

Mrs.  Rockwell  is  the  soul  of  all,  and  is  happy  while  her  children,  as  she 
calls  them,  are  doing  weU,  and  enjoy  her  assistance.  Her  example  is  one 
hundreds  of  our  ladies  might  well  copy.  Nineteen  years  of  constant  labor  in 
a  Sunday-school  is  no  trifling  duty  performed. 


ELLEN    E.    MILES, 

Who  has  been  for  several  years  a  diligent  worker  for  our  church  as  a 
coadjutor  of  Rev.  P.  A.  Hanaford,  was  born  in  Randolph,  Mass.,  March  1, 
1835.  She  is  a  power  in  the  Sunday-school,  has  great  elocutionary  ability, 
and  the  faculty  to  train  children.  She  has  written  several  dramatic  pieces 
appropriate  for  Sunday-schools.  Miss  Miles  was  a  teacher  for  fourteen  years 
in  the  excellent  public  schools  in  Waltham,  Charlestown  and  West  Newton, 
Mass.  She  has  written  prose  and  verse  for  many  years,  but  never  published 
much  until  1870.  At  about  that  time  she  commenced  to  write  for  the 
"Guiding  Star"  very  charming  floral  or  botanical  articles.  She  has  also 
written  prose  and  verse  for  our  periodicals.  She  has  published  two  very 
pretty  volumes.  "Our  Home  Beyond  the  Tide"  has  received  commendations 
from  far  and  near,  for  the  comfort  it  has  given  to  bereaved  hearts.  It  has 
been  re-published  in  Great  Britain.  Her  second  book,  "Seashore  and  Wood- 
land Rambles,"  is  very  pleasing  reading.  Miss  Miles  is  at  present  editing 
;'i"  "Children's  Column"  of  the  "Jersey  City  Eagle." 


ELLEN    E.    MILES.  235 

The  two  following  sweet  poems  are  the  only  ones  I  can  give  space  to, 
but  they  are  by  no  means  the  only  beautiful  ones  she  has  written : 

BEST. 

What  tho'  our  earthly  friends  grow  worn  and  weary 

With  our  sad  tears! 
There  liveth  One,  who,  tho'  the  way  be  dreary, 

In  love  appears, 
And  chides  us  gently  for  our  earth-born  sorrow, 

And  bids  us  rest 
Firm  in  the  faith,  until  his  glad  to-morrow, 

That  all  is  best. 

Best,  tho'  our  hopes  lie  crushed,  and  torn,  and  broken 

Beneath  our  feet; 
Tho'  every  prayer  for  help  and  guidance  spoken 

Seems  incomplete; 
Best,  though  our  path  with  thorns  instead  of  flowers 

Is  thickly  spread; 
Best,  tho*  the  thunder  roll  and  storm  clouds  lower 

Above  our  head. 

No  shadows  fall  until  the  glad  light  breaketh 

Upon  our  way. 
We'll  patient  wait  until  our  Father  maketh 

The  perfect  day. 
That  day  shall  dawn  in  peace  and  free  from  sadness 

At  last  for  all. 
And  we  shall  answer  with  an  unknown  gladness 

The  Master's  call. 

No  more  shall  earth,  with  all  its  dreary  noises. 

Vex  and  annoy; 
No  more  shall  harsh,   unkind,  discordant  voices 

Our  peace  destroy; 
The  flowers  of  love,  which  here  so  sadly  perish. 

Again  shall  bloom. 
And  all  unworthy  thoughts  which  here  we  cherish, 

No  more  lind  room. 


MOONLIGHT    ON    THE    HUDSON. 

Oh,   placid  moonbeams,   resting  soft 
On  palace,  tower,  ami  cottage  roof. 

Throwing  your  silver  threads  of  warp 
Across   the   Starlight's  golden   woof. 


236  OUE    WOMAN    WOKKEES. 

Weaving  a  web  of  softest  sheen 
Above  the  earth's  dark  robe  of  green. 

I  stand  and  watch  your  shimmering  light 
Sparkle  like  jewels  on  the  tide, 

And  wonder  if  more  fair  than  this 

The  stream  that  laves  the  farther  side, 

Or  if  the  heavenly  asphodels 

Are  fairer  than  our  lily  bells. 

I  know  no  softer  moonlight  gleams 

Than  this  which  bathes  the  earth  with  light; 
I  know  no.  fairer  stars  are  seen, 

For  in  that  land  there  is  no  night; 
But  this  my  longing  soul  would  know- 
Do  friends  who  loved  me  long  ago 

Stand  just  within  the  golden  gate. 

Which  swung  at  eve  its  portals  wide, 

And  almost  oped  to  mortal   ken 
The  glory  of  the  farther  side? 

I  wait  to  hear  the  answer  given, 

"The  loved  i.of  earth  shall  meet  in  heaven." 

And,  waiting,  I  will  trust  the   love 

That  guards  me  thro'  the  darkest  hours, 

And  though  my  feet  oft  press  the  thorns 
That  lie  concealed  'neath  sweetest  flowers, 

I  know  his  hand  will  surely  guide 

My  footsteps  safe  beyond  the  tide. 


SOPHIA   HILL 


Is  the  wife  of  E.  P.  Hill,  of  Haverhill,  Mass.  He  is  a  gentleman  of  edu- 
cation and  talent,  of  the  editorial  profession,  and  has  heen  postmaster  of  the 
city.  Jewett's  History  of  Essex  Co.,  Mass.,  says:  "The  Soldiers'  Relief 
Society  of  Haverhill  and  Bradford  was  organized  in  April,  1861.  Officers: 
Mrs.  E.  P.  Hill,  President;  Mrs.  James  Noyes,  Secretary;  Mrs.  E.  Fletcher, 
Treasurer.  This  powerful  organization  existed  from  the  commencement  till 
the  close  of  the  war.     Through  all  these  years,  till  the  last  one,  Mrs.  E.  P. 


SOPHIA    HILL.  237 

Hill  was  the  chief  officer,  at  which  time  Mrs.  Daniel  Harrirnau  hecame  her 
successor.  This  occurred  when  one  of  those  sectarian  tornadoes,  which 
sometimes  sweep  through  communities  and  organizations,  had  its  roll  and 
tumble,  only  to  he  remembered  as  an  accident,  to  escape  from  which  for  a 
long  succession  of  years,  in  such  an  organization,  would  be  too  much  to 
expect." 

The  organization  was  in  perfect  harmony  with  the  Sanitary  Commis- 
sion. The  cause  of  the  "roll  and  tumble,"  referred  to  in  Jewett's  History, 
was  that  the  Christian  Commission  came  in  to  ask  for  some  of  the  funds  to 
spend  in  part  for  sectarian  tracts,  which  created  a  division  and  religious  fight, 
resulting  in  an  orthodox  triumph  in  the  election  of  President  the  last  year. 
Mrs.  Hill  was  a  Universalist  when  she  took  the  office,  remained  unflinchingly 
so  to  the  end,  and  commanded  the  respect  and  support  of  a  large  majority  of 
the  best  and  most  prominent  evangelical  people  in  the  community.  This 
little  tempest  occurred  before  the  great  deluge  of  able  preachers  from  the 
orthodox  churches  into  ours,  and  of  course  before  Canon  Farrar's  "Eternal 
Hope"  spread  its  illumination  over  the  lands  and  into  the  hearts  of  our  grand- 
est orthodox  friends,  and  made  them  feel  and  say:  "Verily  this  doctrine  so 
long  prayed  for  to  be  true,  and  so  complimentary  to  our  God,  is  fast  becom- 
ing a  light  to  our  feet  and  a  joy  to  our  hearts,  instead  of  a  snare  to  mislead.*' 
No  sermon  is  required  here,  however.  Mrs.  Hill  was  successively  elected 
President  for  four  years,  and  never  wearied  in  her  noble  efforts  to  accom- 
plish all  in  her  power  for  the  boys  in  blue.  During  those  years  the  Society 
won  a  national  fame  for  efficiency  and  for  the  great  amount  of  work  done  at 
the  right  time.     I  quote  the  following  from  Schouler's  History,  vol.  2 : 

"Want  of  space  alone  prevents  us  from  giving  a  complete  list  of  the  offi- 
cers of  the  Association  [meaning  the  Haverhill  Soldiers'  Relief  Association" 
during  the  whole  period  of  its  existence.  We  can  not  refrain,  however,  from 
quoting  a  paragraph  from  a  letter  which  we  received  from  a  gentleman  (not 
of  Haverhill),  whom  we  well  know  and  respect,  in  regard  to  Mrs.  E.  P.  Hill, 
whose  devotion  to  the  interests  and  comfort  of  our  soldiers  has  made  her 
name  precious  to  them: 

"  'In  your  'History  of  Massachusetts  in  the  Rebellion,'  I  trust  you  will 
give  Mrs.  E.  P.  Hill  what  is  her  due;  she  worked  all  through  the  war  for  us 


238  OUB    WOMAN     WOKKEES. 

'boys,'  and  lost  her  health  in  caring  for  us.  It  was  Mrs.  Hill,  I  might  say, 
saved  my  life,  after  I  was  confined  in  Libby  prison.'  " 

Mrs.  Hill  is  a  lady  of  fine  mind  and  large  heart,  and  I  can  easily  under- 
stand how,  with  the  enthusiasm  with  which  she  entered  upon  her  work,  she 
could  easily  break  down  in  health.  She,  as  the  representative  head  of  this 
local  Belief  Society,  visited  hospitals  in  New  York  and  other  places  for  the 
purpose  of  learning  the  improved  methods  of  accomplishing  work.  I  well 
remember  that  this  Association  was  considered  a  splendid  one,  and  won  its 
fame  the  first  four  years  of  its  existence.  It  was  really  one  of  the  foremost 
in  Massachusetts.  Why  should  it  not  be?  Haverhill  embraces  as  many 
grand  and  noble  hearts  in  the  different  churches  as  any  jjlace  of  its  size  in 
our  land.  And  we  have  faith  to  believe  that  this  little  "wave  of  trouble"  has 
long  since  ebbed  and  is  lost  in  the  ocean  of  reconciliation. 

Mrs.  Edwin  Ayer,  of  Ayer's  village,  near  Haverhill,  was  a  representative 
woman  during  the  war,  and  was  at  the  head  of  an  auxiliary  society,  in  which 
she  wrought  a  noble  work. 


MAETHA     EEMICK 


Is  a  name  that  will  be  gladly  recognized  by  all  of  the  old  readers  of  the 
"Trumpet,"  "Christian  Freeman,"  and  "Ladies'  Kepository."  She  was  born 
in  the  birth-place  of  her  father  in  one  of  the  earliest  settled  towns  of  New 
England,  Kittery,  Maine.  Its  varied  scenery  of  steep  hills  and  beautiful 
fields,  and  the  sparkling  waters  of  the  broad  and  limpid  Piscataquis,  hemmed 
in  by  thrifty  vales,  which  are  dotted  here  and  there  with  rural  homes  sur- 
rounded by  cultivated  orchards,  give  it  a  picturesqueness  that  is  admired  by 
strangers  and  tourists.  The  river  forms  the  western  boundary,  and  a  little 
to  the  north  is  the  thickly-settled,  thrifty  village,  quite  at  the  entrance  of  the 
Navy  Yard. 

In  the  southern  section  of  the  place  is  another  village,  commanding  a  dis- 
tant view  of  the  blue  ocean.     Here,  in  this  last-named  village,  are  the  remains 


MARTHA    REMICK.  239 

of  the  once  elegant  mansion  of  Sir  William  Pepperell,  the  only  colonist 
knighted  by  our  mother  country.  Nor  will  we  forget  that  he  won  his  dis- 
tinction by  his  capture  of  Louisburg  from  the  French,  at  the  head  of  New 
England  troops.  The  many  spacious  mansions,  although  touched  by  decay, 
show  the  aristocratic  tendency  of  this  once  very  prosperous  town. 
Of  the  noted  lion  of  the  place,  Miss  Remick  sings: 

THE    TOMB    OF    SIR    WILLIAM    PEPPERELL. 

In  a  lone,  deserted  field 

Where  the  bluest  violets   bloom 
When  the  May   winds  sweep  the  valleys, 

Stands   a   stately   marble   tomb; 
Not  a  rose,  or  vine,  or  flower 

Clings   around   it;    love's  sweet  spell 
Long  has  vanished   from   its    portals; 

Of    its    fame    alone    \ye    tell. 

Many  years  have  come  and  vanished 

Since   this   silent   sleeper  led 
To  the  storming  of  a  fortress, 

Ranks  of  men,  now  lying  dead. 
Where  New  England  won  a  victory! 

And  this  grey  old  tomb-stone's  name, 
High  upon   tip'   scroll  of  honor, 

Was  the  first   in  song  and  fame  ! 

Full  a  hundred   years   have  vanished 

Since   that    proud   and    happy  day, 
When  his  ships,  all   richly  laden. 

Gathered   in   this   fair  blue  bay; 
When   these  green  fields  all  around  us 

With  his  nodding  harvest  shone  — 
Wealth,   and    pride,   and   state,   and   honor, 

To  this   tomb   they   all   have   down. 

Yonder  in  his  stately   mansion, 

Onee   the   halls   were   all   aglow 
With   the   music   and    rejoicings 

Of  the   days   of   long   ago. 
Now  his   portrait    hangs   forgotten 

On  the  ancient,  time-worn  wall, 
And  the  strangers'  faces  gather 
j  ,  In  his  proud  ancestral  hall. 

In  this  tomb  he  lies  forgotten; 
But   the   ancient   tales  will   tell 


240  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Of  the  master  who  was  honored. 

And  the  faithful  friend  as  well; 
Better  than  the  fame  which  crowned  him, 

Better  than  his  wealth's  great  store. 
Are  these  records  which  present  him 

True  and  just,  forevermore. 

In  one  of  the  old  homes  in  Kittery  Martha  was  born,  and  she  still  lives  in 
the  house  to  which  her  mother  was  taken  as  a  bride  by  her  husband,  Rufus 
Kemick,  who  then  and  ever  after  was  universally  regarded  as  a  man  of  sound 
judgment  and  unquestioned  integrity,  and  of  more  than  ordinary  abilities. 
His  ancestors  were  from  Holland,  and  came  over  from  their  home  in  the 
earliest  days  of  the  settlement  of  New  England.  They  were  educated,  cul- 
tured people,  as  the  fragments  of  composition  and  hand-writing  would  show, 
if  it  were  not  known  from  other  sources.  Miss  Eemick  says:  "My  father 
lived  and  died  in  the  belief  of  the  salvation  of  all,  and  in  a  severe  and  wast- 
ing sickness,  at  the  close  of  life,  he  could  see  no  other  possibilities,  and  com- 
posed himself  in  the  faith  that  'he  doeth  aU  things  well.' " 

Martha,  from  youth,  seemed  gifted  with  her  mother's  intellectual  tend- 
encies, and  her  father's  strong  faith  in  Universalism.  She  says:  "My  re- 
ligious opinions  were  formed  as  soon  as  I  was  old  enough  to  think  and  reason 
clearly ;  previously  to  this  I  felt  much  anxiety  in  thinking  of  those  who  were 
dearest  to  me.  I  knew  I  should  never  be  satisfied  with  heaven  were  I  to  at- 
tain it,  if  they  were  suffering." 

Her  school-life  was  one  of  earnest  and  absorbing  study ;  her  first  school- 
ing from  home  was  in  Augusta,  Maine.  At  one  time  she  attended  a  Baptist 
seminary  in  Charlestown,  Mass.  "But,"  she  writes,  "I  learned  nearly  as 
well  by  studying  my  books  at  home,  for  I  was  satisfied  only  when  I  could  re- 
peat the  contents  of  each  book  from  the  beginning  to  the  close  without  ques- 
tions. Overwork  of  mind,  however,  (as  should  have  been  expected)  prepared 
the  way  for  sickness,  which  came,  and  from  which  I  have  never  been 
restored  to  permanent  health." 

Miss  Kemick  was  always  a  fine  prose  writer;  her  stories  were  received 

gladly  by  publishers,  and  read  with  enthusiasm.     But  a  period  of  ill  health 

rime,  which  disabled  her  from  writing  prose,  and  at  this  time  the  spirit  of 

»ng  was  born  within  her  soul,  and  from  that  time  on  there  was  scarcely  a 


MARTHA   REMICK.  241 

week  that  our  papers*  or  periodicals  did  not  regale  their  readers  with  some 
fresh  vision  from  her  rich  mind. 

When  better  health  came,  three  novels  were  written,  which  quickly  found 
their  way  to  the  public,  "Agnes  Stanhope,"  "Millicent  Hazard,"  and  "Rich- 
ard Ireton."  The  last  is  a  book  of  nearly  five  hundred  pages,  but  the  interest 
of  the  reader  never  diminishes  until  the  last  word  is  read. 

These  books  are  popular  in  our  Sunday-school  libraries.  Miss  Remick 
has  written  several  long  stories,  which  have  been  published  as  serials,  not 
yet  put  into  book  form.  "The  Curate  of  Lanscott  "  is  an  eloquently  written 
and  interesting  story.     She  has  also  several  books  in  manuscript. 

Everything  Miss  Remick  has  writtten  has  a  high  moral  and  religious 
tone,  and  her  writings  have  been  of  great  benefit  to  our  denomination.  They 
come  from  a  heart  that  has  felt  pain  as  well  as  joy,  for  the  spirit  is  both 
tender  and  touching.  She  says:  "I  have  not  passed  the  noon  of  life,  and 
if  I  had  better  health,  the  best  working  years,  with  the  ripening  experience 
and  thought,  would  be  before."  The  friends  who  have  watched  her  career, 
and  who  know  her  spirit,  are  fully  persuaded  that  this  is  true. 


"THROUGH    A    GLASS    DARKLY." 
Here  on  this  earth  we  walk  in  cloud  and  shadow. 

We  meet  and  part 
With  anxious  fears  of  what  may  come  to-morrow 
In  every  heart. 

We  see  as  through  a  glass,    but  in  God's  future 

Our  fullest  praise 
May  be  that  he   through  just  these  mazes  guided 

Our  earthly  ways. 


"THIS    DO    IN    MEMORY    OF    ME." 

With  other  friends  who  have  passed  on 
We  link  tins  solium  rite;   like  prayer 
It  brings  a  blessing  from   that  world 


242  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Whose  habitants  are  pure  and  fair; 
He  knew  our  needs,  the  Man  of  Woes, 
Who  left  this  token  at  life's  close. 

With  other  friends  who  have  passed  on 
Around  this  board  in  soul  we  stand, 

Familiar  faces  glow  again, 

We  clasp  in  faith  the  outstretched  hand; 

They  are  with  him  who  bade  us  taku 

The  bread  and  wine  for  his  dear  sake. 

With  other  friends  who  have  passed  on; 

If  round  this  board  not  all  have  bent, 
His  love  and  kindness  all  the  same 

His  blessings  on  them  hath  he  sent; 
Whate'er  the  creed,  or  e'en  if  faith 

Wavered  for  lack  of  human  sight, 
We  feel  our  hearts  may  join  with  them 

To-day  within  this  mystic  rite. 


MARY   E.    DAVIS 

Expresses  a  good  deal  of  modesty  about  being  clironicled  with  the  noble 
working  women  of  our  church,  although  £rom  girlhood  "she  has  done  what 
she  could."  She  was  born  in  Plainfield,  Vt.,  June  2,  1835.  Her  father  was 
one  of  the  lords  of  the  field,  who  by  the  honest  "sweat  of  his  face  ate  his 
bread."  A  wife,  delicate  in  constitution,  and  eight  daughters,  constituted 
his  loved  ones,  and  for  them  he  turned  the  sod  and  sowed  the  grain  in  cheer- 
ful hope.  Junius  Davis,  the  father,  was  a  Universalist,  but  the  mother  was 
a  daughter  of  a  "Christian"  minister,  and  always  retained  some  of  the  ideas 
of  that  church,  though  she  ever  prayed  that  Universalism  might  be  trite;  but 
Mr.  Davis,  with  his  daughter,  attended  church  at  North  Montpelier,  and  list- 
ened to  Revs.  Eli  Ballon,  D.D.,  Lester  Warren  and  T.  R.  Spencer,  and  Miss 
Davis  says:  "Under  their  preaching,  and  from  the  perusal  of  the  Ely  and 
Thomas  discussion,  and  the  bitter  spirit  impelled  by  the  sectarianism  which 
was  shown  toward  all  liberal  thought  in  the  academy  which  I  attended  six 
terms,  my  faith  was  established."     Miss  Davis  had  only  the  advantages  of  a 


MARY    E.    DAVIS.  243 

common  school,  except  the  academic  terms  mentioned,  in  Barre,  Vt., 
.  and  when  quite  young  a  short  time  at  a  private  school.  It  was  in  this  school 
she  commenced  her  rhyming,  and  did  so  very  well  that,  as  is  often  the  case, 
jealousy  plotted  mischief.  One  who  had  been  eclipsed  by  her  informed  the 
teacher  that  "Mary  stole  her  composition."  "I  think  not,"  replied  the 
teacher,  "but  if  it  is  the  case  we  will  prove  it."  That  day  Mary  received  her 
subject  to  write  upon  from  her  teacher  — "The  Exile's  Last  Dream  of  Home." 
She  was  perplexed,  and  told  her  teacher  she  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  so 
great  a  subject,  and  begged  her  to  give  her  some  ideas,  which  the  teacher 
did,  and  the  maligned  child  was  soon  ready  to  read  a  composition  of  three 
stanzas,  eight  hues  each,  that  settled  the  question  as  to  her  honesty.  The 
poem  was  sent  to  Rev.  Eli  Ballou,  D.D.,  who  edited  the  "Christian  Reposi- 
tory," and  from  that  time  on  Dr.  Ballou  received  gladly  whatever  she  sent 
for  publication. 

Miss  Davis  commenced  teaching  when  she  was  eighteen  years  old,  and 
earned  enough  to  pay  her  expenses  for  four  of  the  terms  at  school.  She 
began  writing  prose  at  twenty  years.  An  editor  of  a  Methodist  paper  offered 
fifty  dollars  for  the  best  original  story  giving  the  history  of  Vermont.  Miss 
Davis  was  a  competitor,  and  would  have  received  the  second  prize  if  one  had 
been  offered.  The  editor,  however,  gave  her  two  dollars  a  chapter  for  any 
kind  of  a  story  she  was  pleased  to  write,  she  to  use  her  own  judgment  about 
the  number  of  chapters. 

A  severe  run  of  typhoid  fever  produced  effects  from  which  she  did  not 
recover  for  ten  years.  She  wrote  for  the  "Christian  Leader"  when  it  was 
published  in  New  York,  and  has  written  many  little  stories  for  the  "Gospel 
Banner,"  "Opal  Aubrey"  being  the  most  prominent  one.  Miss  Davis  has 
from  youth  been  much  interested  in  the  temperance  cause,  and  her  stories 
illustrating  the  evils  of  intemperance  must  have  exerted  a  good  influence. 

She  published  a  volume  of  poems  of  348  pages," Glenorie,"  a  long  love- 
story  of  great  sadness  in  which  the  heroine 

"  Walked  nor  earthly  paths   anointed 
With  sorrow's  oil," 

reminding  the  reader  somewhat  of  the  sorrows  of  "Evangeline."     The  most 


244  OUK    WOMAN    WOEKERS. 

of  her  poems  are  baptized  with  the  spirit  of  her  faith,  but  we  have  room  for 
only  the  f ollowiiig : 

AUTUMN    SHADOWS. 

The  Autumn  clouds  have  gathered 

Far  up  the  sunny  sky, 
The  Summer  flowers  have  faded, 

And  on  her  tomb  now  lie; 
The  cold,  sad  winds  are  moaning, 

While,  in  the  chilling  rain, 
The  brown  leaves  droop  and  tremble. 

Like  a  heart  o'er-fllled  with  pain. 

Oh,  leaves  of  gold  and  crimson, 

So  glorious  in  decay. 
You  'mind  us  of  bright  moments 

Which  long  have  passed  away; 
For  gloomy  Autumn  shadows, 

'Tis  not  on  nature's   face 
Alone  we  find  your  presence, 

Alone  your  lines  we  trace. 

For  all  our  lives  have  shadows— 

We  greet  them  day  by  day — 
Some  are  of  short  duration, 

While  others  longer  stay. 
There  is  no  week  that  passes 

But  brings  its  shaded  hours; 
God  gives  us  not  all  sunshine. 

For  better  oft  are  showers. 

There's  scarce  a  month  that  passes 
But  brings  the  tidings  near. 

Some  friend,  by  ties  of  friendship, 
Or  kindred  yet  more  dear. 

Has  crossed  the  dim,  cold  valley- 
Gone  to  the  "other  shore"— 

And  here  on  earth  we'll  meet  them, 
Ah!   never,  nevermore! 

Oh,  withered  Autumn  trophies! 

We  read  from  your  decay 
The  sad  and  solemn  lesson— 

We,  too,  shall  pass  away: 
For  we  are  frail  and  earthly. 
And   l>e  il    far  or  nit,rh. 


EMILY    L.    SHERWOOD.  245 

For  us  there'll  come  an  Autumn, 
In  which  to  fade  and  die. 

But  even  as  the  Bowers 

In  Spring  shall  bloom  once  more, 

Wo,  too,  shall   wake   in  gladness 
Beyond  earth's  fading  shore. 

Our  souls  shall  have  their  Kpring-timo 
Where  joy  will  never  end— 

A  homo  of  light  in  heaven- 
There  all  our  hopes  do  tend. 

No  Autumn  there  shall  cloud  us 

With  cold  and  weeping  showers; 
No  chilling  frost  shall  wither 

The  beauteous  Summer  flowers; 
But  in  God's  holy  sunshine 

All  shadows  will  be  o'er, 
And  with  the  loved  united, 

We'll  bless  God  evermore. 


EMILY   L.    SHEKWOOD, 

Daughter  of  Monroe  Wells  Lee,  and  Mary  Dole  Lee,  was  bom  in  Madi- 
son, Indiana,  March  28,  1839.  Mr.  Lee's  people  were  from  New  Jersey, 
Mrs.  Lee's  from  New  England.  Mrs.  Sherwood's  people  were  Universalists, 
and  she  was  brought  up  under  the  influence  of  the  faith  in  the  salvation  of 
all  souls,  and,  consequently,  never  knew  what  it  was  to  suffer  in  fear  of  the 
future.  Her  father's  home  was  a  haven  of  rest  for  the  clergy  of  our  church, 
in  Indiana  and  Ohio.  He  was  very  social  in  his  habits,  was  a  great  reader, 
sound  thinker,  and  a  fine  talker;  and  those  characteristics  were  transmitted 
to  his  daughter.  Her  mother  was  gentle  and  retiring,  noted  for  her  refine- 
ment and  depth  of  feeling.  Mrs.  Sherwood's  father  died  of  cholera  when 
she  was  about  ten  years  old,  and  his  death  made  so  deep  an  impression  that 
it  ended  her  childhood.  Up  to  that  time  she  attended  Mrs.  Hunt's  private 
school,  which  was  very  popular  in  Madison,  but  after  her  father's  death  she 
was  sent  to  the  public  school.      When  she  was  in  the  second  year  of  the 


246  OUR     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

high  school,  the  family  moved  to  Indianapolis,  Ind.,  where  her  brothers  were 
engaged  in  publishing,  with  Rev.  B.  F.  Foster  and  Rev.  I.  D.  Williamson, 
the  "Herald  and  Era."  She  was  then  fifteen  years  old,  and  never  after  regu- 
larly attended  school  again.  After  going  to  Indianapolis,  she  commenced 
working  in  the  office  of  the  "Herald  and  Era,"  and  for  a  time  had  charge  of 
the  Youth's  Department  of  the  paper.  She  says:  "I  was  launched  upon  the 
literary  world  by  my  mother,  as  Jenny  Crayon,  after  which  premature  plunge 
I  took  to  it  of  my  own  accord,  and  from  love,  being  the  thing  in  hfe  which 
affords  me  most  pleasure,  whether  it  ever  sees  the  light  of  the  publisher's 
page  or  not." 

Mrs.  Sherwood  has  written  many  stories,  none  of  which  have  been  pub- 
lished in  book  form,  but  have  been  extremely  interesting.  She  was  a  con- 
tributor to  the  "Indianapolis  Journal,"  "Commercial  "  and  "News,"  Santa 
Barbara  (California)  "Press  "  and  Washington  (D.  C.)  "Chronicle."  And 
the  papers  to  which  she  has  contributed  which  promulgated  the  same  precious 
faith  as  her  own,  have  been  "  The  Ladies'  Repository,"  "  Star  in  the  West," 
"Christian  Leader  "  and  "The  Star  and  Covenant." 

Mrs.  Sherwood  was  married  to  Henry  Lee  Sherwood,  an  attorney,  in 
1859.  Her  husband  was  an  officer  in  the  Union  army;  was  a  staff-officer 
of  Col.  White,  of  the  12th  Ohio  Regiment,  Acting  Brigadier,  commandmg 
the  2nd  Brigade  of  West  Virginia  in  Gen.  Crook's  division.  They  have 
been  blessed  with  no  children  of  their  own  by  birth,  but  Mrs.  Sherwood  says: 
"We  adopted  one  who  disciplined  us,  and  we  him  for  twelve  years." 

In  January,  1865,  just  before  the  inauguration  of  the  lamented  Lincoln, 
they  settled  in  Washington,  D.  C,  and  Mrs.  Sherwood  says:  "The  scenes 
and  events  of  the  assassination  of  the  good  President  are  ineffaceable." 

Mrs.  Sherwood  is  a  lively,  spicy  writer.  I  am  glad  to  give  the  following 
as  a  sample : 

LILACS. 

"Walking  into  a  beautiful  room  the  other  day,  the  sweetest  odor  of  the 
Spring-time  greeted  us,  and  our  eyes  rested  upon  a  pitcher  full  of  lilacs. 
Lilacs  were  never  meant  to  be  gathered  into  bouquets ;  their  masses  of  bloom 
never  look  so  well  anywhere  else  as  in  a  pitcher ;  the  older  and  quainter  the 


EMILY    L.    SHERWOOD.  247 

form  the  better,  but  a  pitcher  it  must  be.  I  never  see  such  a  thing  of  beauty 
set  in  such  a  vase  but  I  also  see  this  picture,  the  counterpart  of  an  impres- 
sion made  upon  my  mind  at  so  early  a  stage  in  hfe  that  I  know  not  where 
to  locate  it. 

"A  little  old  house,  steep-roofed  and  dormer-windowed,  reddish-brown 
in  hue,  set  in  the  midst  of  an  old-fashioned  garden,  for  there  are  none  such 
to  be  seen  now  in  a  radius  of  many  miles  from  the  city.  There  is  a  low, 
square  patch  at  the  door  in  the  middle  of  the  front,  a  door  set  round  with 
tiny  panes  of  glass  to  light  the  spacious  hall  where  the  inmates  sit  in  Sum- 
mer to  enjoy  its  cool  drafts.  There  are  roses,  climbing  vines,  and  woodbine 
sweet,  aU  in  a  tangle  over  the  porch,  and  close  by  a  lilac,  purple  with  its 
long  bunches  of  bloom;  and  a  little  way  off  a  shrub,  dark  in  hue,  but  odor- 
ous; and  on  the  other  side  a  snowbaU,  a  round  mass  of  greenish -white  flow- 
ers not  unlike  a  snowball;  hence  its  name.  The  paths  are  bordered  by 
fteur  de  Us — or,  as  the  old  lady  who  loves  flowers  and  makes  them  objects  of 
her  peculiar  care,  who  lives  here,  says,  'flags,'  that  wave  their  long  leaves  on 
either  side  of  the  way,  and  peonies  make  a  background  of  color  masses  in 
red  or  white.  There  is  an  oval  bed  of  tulips  and  jonquils  and  snowdrops 
and  crocuses  and  violet  borders — old-time  pets  of  the  florist,  now  out  of  date 
or  superseded  by  'coleuses,'  'geraniums,'  'verbenas,'  and  a  host  of  other 
showy  but  scentless  flowers. 

"The  old  lady  aforesaid  walks,  shears  in  hand,  in  the  midst  of  her  favor- 
ites ,  an  old  lady  not  afraid  to  own  her  age,  but  from  her  neat  cap  to  the 
plain  hem  of  her  quaint  dress  she  looks  what  she  is — a  lovely  woman,  no 
longer  young,  but  the  exponent  of  those  graces  which  beautify  and  adorn  old 
age  as  do  other  graces  the  dew  of  youth.  This  old  lady  knits  little  stock- 
ings for  her  grandchildren,  sitting  where  she  can  enjoy  the  bright  sunshine 
and  her  afternoon  nap  at  ease  in  her  great  ami-chair. 

"Living  flowers  and  httle  children,  and  all  fresh,  young,  growing  life; 
nobody  need  dread  her  as  a  'mother-in-law,'  for  on  her  tongue  is  the  'law 
of  kindness.'  Lovely  vision  of  old-fashioned  garden  and  beautiful  old  age 
that  always  comes  up  when  I  smell  the  hlacs ! 

"To  a  bee  no  flower  is  perfect  that  has  not  its  cup  of  honey  secreted  in 
the  root  of  the  calyx,  and  it  passes  by  with  a  buzz  of  scorn  many  a  fragrant 


248  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

blossom  to  alight  with  delight  upon  some  odorless  one,  because  of  the  drop 
of  sweets  at  its  heart;  thus  nature  kindly  distributes  her  favors,  odors  to  one 
and  sweets  to  another;  and,  like  fortune,  she  hath  her  favorites,  on  whom 
she  lavishes  all  she  hath  to  give  of  beauty,  sweetness,  and  fragrance,  while  to 
a  few  she  takes  away  even  while  she  gives  more  abundantly  of  one  or  an- 
other quality.  All  wild  roses  are  delicious,  with  a  fragrance  peculiarly  their 
own,  and  though  less  beautiful  than  when  doubled  by  cultivation,  they  con- 
tain honey;  but  for  every  petal  added  by  the  florist  something  is  lost  of 
sweetness  and  odor,  until  the  bee  has  to  do  without  the  honey  and  the  florist 
has  to  inocrdate  the  fragrance,  and  thus  we  have  the  flavor  of  'teas'  and 
other  scents  in  our  roses.  But  in  the  garden  of  our  vision  the  old  'hundred- 
leaf  roses,'  blooming  annually,  furnish  both  fragrance  and  petals  for  'rose- 
water'  in  unlimited  supply.  One  of  the  strange  freaks  of  nature  in  some 
parts  of  America,  say  New  York  State,  the  Spring  violets  are  generally  odor- 
less, but  the  few  Autumnal  blooming  ones  are  as  sweet  as  the  best  English 
plants.  I  have  gathered  creamy  white  ones  on  sunny  slopes  as  late  as 
October  in  western  New  York. 

"City  and  suburban  gardens  will  always  be  more  or  less  subject  to  the 
caprice  and  pruning  of  the  landscape  gardener;  but  nature  will  be  as  wil- 
ful in  the  future  as  in  the  past,  and  if  we  cannot  enjoy  an  old-fashioned  gar- 
den save  in  imagination  at  a  sniff  of  lilac-scented  air,  we  can  seek  her  haunts 
and  gather  from  her  violet  banks,  and  of  her  trailing  arbutus,  and  her  thou- 
sand lovely  beauties  not  set  down  in  the  books,  at  our  own  sweet  will,  and 
thus  keep  young  hearts  if  the  grey  hairs  do  come.  Only  the  other  day  a 
gentleman  said :  'I  feel  just  like  a  boy  these  lovely  Spring  days,  and  woidd 
like  to  go  rambling  through  the  woods,  peering  into  birds'  nests,  killing 
snakes,  swimming  in  the  'deep  holes'  in  the  creeks,  climbing  trees  to  look 
into  birds'  nests,  and  other  wild  boyish  antics,  if  I  were  not  obliged  to  attend 
to  this  everlasting  'business,'  which  chains  us  men  down  until  we  get  care- 
worn and  grey  as  rats,  and  stiff  as  old  dray-horses,  and  too  old  to  enjoy  tramps 
by  the  time  we  have  earned  enough  to  take  life  comfortably.' 

"My  advice  was,  be  a  boy  and  drop  'cares,'  or  run  away  from  them  for  a 
day  and  hunt,  fish,  or  observe  nature  with  a  boy's  zest  and  a  man's  intelli- 
gence ;  or,  for  that  matter,  let  careworn  women  do  the  same.    Nature's  heart 


JANE    L.    PATTERSON.  249 

is  ever  open  to  embrace  and  cheer  with  hope,  health  and  happiness  those 
who  truly  love  her.  Follow  her  up  from  the  first  violet  she  brings  forth  in 
the  Springtime  until  she  paints  and  flowers  in  Autumnal  beauty,  and  has 
naught  but  bare  boughs  and  aster  stalks  to  tell  what  her  life  hath  been. " 


JANE    L.    PATTEESON. 

Jane  Lippitt,  daughter  of  Daniel  Lippitt  and  Catharine  Burch,  was 
born  in  Otsego,  N.  Y.,  June  4,  1829.  As  a  child,  she  was  thoughtful  and 
studious.  To  master  whatever  she  undertook  seems  to  have  been  an  element 
of  her  nature.  She  never  appeared  in  school  with  an  unprepared  or  half- 
learned  lesson.  With  her  there  was  an  early  development  of  conscience. 
The  least  failure  in  any  undertaking  gave  her  keen  anguish,  and  nerved  her 
whole  being  to  renewed  purpose  and  endeavor. 

Her  father,  a  man  of  fine  culture  and  remarkable  intellectual  power, 
united  in  his  pursuits  the  work  of  farmer  and  teacher.  He  owned  and  culti- 
vated land,  and  in  Winter  kept  the  district  school.  Jane  early  learned  all 
the  homely  tasks  of  farm  life.  She  could  spin  flax,  tow  and  wool,  and  before 
she  was  twelve  years  old  she  made  Summer  clothes  for  a  younger  brother 
out  of  linen  which  she  had  helped  to  manufacture. 

When  in  her  tenth  year,  the  family  removed  from  New  York  to  Penn- 
sylvania, settling  in  Summit  Township,  Crawford  County,  a  region  compara- 
tively new.  Forests  of  immense  trees  covered  more  than  half  the  farm. 
The  houses  of  the  neighborhood  were  built  of  logs,  round  or  hewn,  some  of 
them  firm  and  strong  as  a  citadel.  Coming  from  older  places  these  houses 
looked  uninviting.  The  strong  and  heroic  mother  yielded  to  a  passion  of 
homesick  tears  when  she  saw  the  rude  shelter  and  its  wild  surroundings ;  but 
it  was  only  for  a  moment.  The  sun  shone,  the  young  trees  about  the  house 
blossomed,  the  garden  grew  in  luxuriance,  and  hope,  the  normal  state  of  her 
woman's  heart,  soon  asserted  itself.     The  children  took  delight  in  the  new 

17 


250  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

scene.  They  hunted  wintergreens  and  wild  flowers ;  found  where  all  the  nut 
trees  grew ;  and  in  the  fresh  life  of  field  and  forest,  gathered  a  freshness  and 
naturalness  better  than  gold. 

The  "Log  School-house  on  the  Gore,''  which  Jane  has  memorialized  in 
one  of  her  stories,  "  Wilhtts  and  I,"  furnished  the  neighborhood  an  intel- 
lectual center,  and  in  Summer,  when  some  faithful  girl  acted  as  teacher,  or 
in  Winter,  when  the  old  Professor  graced  the  low  room,  there  was  enough  to 
learn,  and,  always,  either  there  or  at  home,  the  needed  help  for  the  earnest 

student. 

When  but  twelve  years  old,  a  singular  illness  came  with  its  arresting 

hand,  and  for  three  years  the  "  Log  School-house  on  the  Gore"  missed  its 
studious  and  intense  pupil.  When  she  went  again  with  regularity,  it  was  in 
the  capacity  of  teacher.  She  was  then  scarcely  well,  and  the  walk  down 
and  lip  the  precipitous  banks  of  Pine  Run  accelerated  her  heart-beats  much 
beyond  the  healthy  medium ;  but  the  school  needed  a  teacher,  and  she,  to 
whom  work  seemed  as  much  a  necessity  as  the  song  is  to  t'he  bird,  needed  the 
school.  The  years  of  sickness  had  been  marked  seasons  in  her  life.  She  had 
studied  constantly  when  not  wholly  prostrated.  Under  the  daily  instruction  of 
her  competent  father,  her  progress  had  been  more  rapid  than  if  she  had  been 
a  pupil  in  the  best  seminary ;  and  the  meditations  of  those  weeks  when  con- 
fined to  the  bed,  expecting  at  any  time  to  face  the  great  change,  were  per- 
haps the  best  preparation  for  her  awaiting  life.  Naturally  of  a  serious  cast, 
given  to  thought  on  religious  questions,  making  her  earliest  plays  the  meet- 
ing-house with  its  forms  of  worship,  the  presence  of  utter  weakness  and 
dependence  forced  upon  her  thought  the  dogmas  of  the  old  church,  and 
made  her  sick-bed  a  place  of  mental  torture.  One  day  an  aunt,  who  made 
her  home  with  the  family,  and  was  interested  and  helpful,  almost  like  a 
mother,  sat  reading  the  New  Testament  aloud  in  the  room  of  the  invalid. 
She  read  this  passage  in  Timothy :  "  For  we  both  labor  and  suffer  reproach 
because  we  trust  in  the  living  God,  who  is  the  Savior  of  all  men,  especially  of 
them  that  believe." 

"Is  that  in  the  Bible?"  said  Jane,  and  asked  for  a  second  reading. 

She  took  the  book  and  read  it  herself.  Then  she  began,  as  her  strength 
crept  back  a  little,  to  read  the  whole  Bible  in  course,  that  she  might  find  for  her- 


JANE    L.     PATTERSON.  251 

self  all  its  mighty  promises.  This  habit  she  rigidly  followed,  until  she  had 
read  it  seven  times.  At  the  beginning  of  her  inquiry  she  found  a  human 
helper.  Two  of  the  neighbors  had  come  from  New  York,  and  had  heard 
Fathers  Ballou  and  Stacy,  and  were  earnest  and  consistent  Universalists, 
John  Whiting  and  Benjamin  Skill'.  The  Skiff  and  Lippitt  families  were  veiy 
intimate.  A  friendship  like  that  of  David  and  Jonathan  existed  between 
Minor  Skiff  and  Lorenzo  Lippitt,  a  friendship  early  sealed  for  heaven.  The 
young  men  were  together  at  every  interval  of  leisure,  and  always  passed  their 
Sundays  in  a  fellowship  closer  than  that  of  brothers. 

Being  at  rest  in  the  deep  places  of  his  own  soul,  Benjamin  Skiff  natur- 
ally felt  anxious  for  his  sick  young  neighbor,  and  in  ways  fatherly  and  heav- 
enly kind,  he  helped  to  scatter  the  clouds  that  hung  about  her  mental  sky. 
He  loaned  her  books — the  "Life  of  Murray,"  "Ballou's  Sermons,"  an  English 
treatise  on  Endless  Punishment,  and  other  works.  These  she  read  with  the 
avidity  of  one  famishing  for  the  bread  of  life,  and  ere  long  she  found  the  full 
and  satisfying  supply,  and  doubt  of  God  and  fear  of  his  dispensations  de- 
parted forever. 

The  first  time  she  ever  heard  a  Universalist  sermon  she  walked  for  that 
purpose  nearly  three  miles  in  a  January  thaw.  She  asked  her  father  for  a 
horse,  intending  to  go  on  horseback,  but  the  careful  farmer  said  the  going 
was  too  bad  for  the  horses.  She  slipped  into  her  room,  put  on  her  Sunday 
dress  and  a  pair  of  stout  boots,  and  defied  the  January  thaw.  She  was  light 
of  foot,  and  knew  all  the  cross-lot  ways  and  dry  places,  and  when  she  got  to 
the  school-house  in  Harmonsburg,  tired  and  with  heart  all  a-flutter,  nobody 
would  have  known  by  her  boots  that  she  had  walked  anywhere  but  on  the 
"highway  cast  up  for  the  redeemed."  She  heard  in  the  morning  Bushnell 
Fowler  Hitchcock,  a  man  of  sainted  memory;  and  in  the  afternoon  Ammi 
Bond,  one  of  the  keenest  minds  our  church  has  ever  had.  The  privilege  of 
the  preached  word  was  so  great  that  she  lost  no  opportunity,  when  her 
strength  was  equal  to  the  distance ;  and  when  she  was  sixteen  she  kept  the 
school  in  the  Rundell  neighborhood,  where  Mr.  Hitchcock  preached  regularly 
once  a  month.  Nearly  every  patron  of  the  school  was  a  Universalist. 
When  she  swept  the  house  on  Saturday  afternoon,  she  knew  she  should  see 
the  faces  of  her  children  on  this  one  precious  Sunday,  in  company  with  their 


252  OUK    WOMAN    WOKKEKS. 

parents,  and  older  brothers  and  sisters  who  stayed  at  home  in  harvest-time, 
unless  the  day  was  too  rainy  to  work  in  the  field.  In  the  Autumn  of  this 
year  her  father  removed  from  Summit  to  this  pleasant  valley.  The  aunt,  of 
whom  I  have  spoken,  had  married  and  settled  here,  and  it  was  an  easy  thing 
in  those  days  to  sell  one  farm  and  buy  another,  especially  when  the  hearts  of 
a  family,  so  long  associated  as  one,  pleaded  for  the  change  that  they  might  be 
near  aunty;  and  Jane  had  ready  a  more  emphatic  plea — the  monthly  meet- 
ing in  the  school-house,  where  the  people  came  from  near  and  afar,  and  dur- 
ing intermission  the  young  folks  chatted  in  groups,  and  the  men  discussed 
the  sermon,  and  the  matrons  sometimes  their  housekeeping.  They  were 
earnest  men  and  women,  full  of  neighborhood  affections,  intensified  by  their 
happy  faith,  and  the  meetings  and  the  intermissions  had  their  ministry  in 
building  the  life. 

The  period  of  sowing  seems  to  have  been  longer  in  the  subject  of  this 
sketch  than  is  common  to  those  who  have  literary  gifts.  She  took  in  germ- 
inal inspirations  from  those  wonderful  old  forests  which  she  loved  to  explore, 
from  the  babbling  brook,  from  the  quaint  Pine  Run  Bridge,  from  field  and 
flower  and  friend.  She  wrote  but  little  until  she  was  twenty  years  old.  A 
few  scraps  of  verse,  which  seem  rather  the  groping  of  a  soul  after  expression, 
than  the  promise  of  after  fruitage,  are  all  that  have  been  preserved.  About 
this  time  she  began  to  send  occasional  poems  and  letters  to  "The  New  Cove- 
nant." She  also  published  a  few  pieces  in  the  "Trumpet"  and  the  "Star." 
Samuel  P.  Skinner,  editor  of  the  "Covenant,"  made  favorable  mention  of  her 
contributions  and  inserted  everything  which  she  sent.  She  was  entering  that 
awakening  period  when  the  school-keeping  and  the  work  of  the  home  took 
on  a  transfiguring  glory  under  the  touch  of  love.  It  was  a  time  of  intense 
living,  when  every  work  of  hand  or  brain  springs  into  being  with  gracious 
ease,  and  the  amount  of  productiveness  during  these  years  seems  almost  fab- 
ulous. 

In  the  Summer  of  her  twenty-second  year  she  was  married  to  Rev.  Adon- 
iram  Judson  Patterson,  D.D.,  and  went  with  him  to  the  house  of  his  mother, 
where  they  passed  nearly  two  years.  The  parents  of  Mr.  Patterson  had  dedi- 
cated him  to  the  ministry  from  his  birth,  and  his  early  education  was 
directed  with  reference  to  this  profession.     But  the  death  of  his  father  ren- 


JANE    L.    PATTERSON.  253 

dered  it  necessary  that  he  gather  up  certain  odds  and  ends  of  business,  that 
his  mother  might  he  secured  in  an  independent  living,  before  he  took  tip  the 
work  of  his  profession.  The  young  wife  lent  a  willing  hand  in  these  endeav- 
ors, and  a  sympathetic  heart  in  eveiy  effort  to  get  ready  for  the  chosen  call- 
ing. In  the  Spring  of  1853  they  went  out  together  to  build  for  themselves 
and  the  world.  It  was  a  wide  and  whitening  field,  that  large  area  of  Western 
Pennsylvania,  with  its  lovely  center  in  Girard,  and  the  work  was  absorbing, 
and  at  times  almost  overwhelming.  For  two  years  and  more  the  energies  of 
their  lives  were  poured  out  for  this  waiting  people.  Full  of  the  faith  and 
earnest  in  desire  that  the  world  might  know  the  great  salvation,  Mrs.  Patter- 
son walked  hand  in  hand  with  her  husband,  with  interested  counsel  in  all 
the  sermons,  with  desire  for  the  growth  of  minister  and  people 
in  the  faith  and  power  of  the  gospel.  Had  the  opportunity  for  woman 
which  has  since  come,  then  swept  the  land,  she  would  have  been  a  minister. 
It  was  her  highest  love,  and  the  fabric  of  her  happiest  dreams.  Many  a  time 
in  sleep  she  has  told  multitudes  of  the  love  of  the  good  God,  to  awake  and 
find  she  had  been  dreaming. 

During  the  two  years  in  Girard  and  the  eleven  years  passed  in  Ports- 
mouth, she  gave  hut  little  to  the  press.  An  occasional  poeni  or  brief  letter 
was  all  she  essayed,  and  these  only  under  irresistible  movings  of  the  spirit. 
She  took  sole  care  of  her  house,  and  did  what  she  could  to  help  the  old  and 
sick  of  the  parish,  and  to  fulfill  the  duty  and  the  grace  of  hospitality.  So 
entirely  did  she  lose  herself  in  these  works  that  when  a  certain  editor,  who 
had  been  guest  in  her  home,  asked  her  for  articles  for  his  magazine,  she  pro- 
fessed to  understand  him  as  desiring  a  recipe  for  making  bread,  which  she 
wrote  out  with  great  precision,  and  which  he  published. 

The  war  shook  her  like  a  tree  tempest-tossed.  Her  letters  were  volu- 
minous. They  were  full  of  the  spirit  and  passing  events  of  the  time.  But 
she  dropped  even  her  journal  during  those  years,  and  scarcely  wrote  a  poem. 
On  a  certain  evening,  feeling  great  loneliness,  she  began  a  story  of  the  times. 
On  other  lonely  evenings  she  took  up  the  theme,  until  she  had  written  one 
hundred  and  fifty  manuscript  pages.  Then  other  cares  crowded  it  aside. 
The  prizes  of  the  series  which  was  published  while  R.  A.  Ballou  was  agent 
of  the  Boston  House,  were  pending.     Mr.  Ballou  suggested  to  Mr.  Patterson 


254  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

that  his  wife  write.     There  was  yet  a  month  before  the  close  of  the  time 
when  the  manuscripts  must  be  in.     To  finish  the  story  already  begim  in  so 
brief  a  time,  with  all  the  work  of  the  home  pending,  seemed  impossible.  But 
there  was  no  time  to  parley.     It  was  at  once  decided  that  Mr.  Patterson 
should  get  the  dinners,  and  relieve  his  wife  of  all  company  during  the  fore- 
noons, and  she  would  try  to  finish  the  story  in  the  time  allotted.     She  found 
the  stillest  corner  of  the  house,  and  went  to  work  on  Monday  morning.     She 
hung  her  watch  before  her,  that  she  might  not  be  tempted  to  dream  over  her 
sentences.     She  made  from  twenty-five  to  twenty-eight  pages  each  forenoon 
for  five  days  in  the  week,  giving  Saturday  to  domestic  duties.     After  dinner 
she  ransacked  great  files  of  the  "Kebellion  Eecord,"  that  the  dates  of  events 
might  be  entirely  accurate,  and   sometimes,  over-weary,    slept.      In  three 
weeks  the  story  was  completed.     On  the  fourth  she  copied  the  first  one  hun- 
dred and  fifty  pages,  which  were  written  on  scraps  of  any  sort,  never  think- 
ing of  the  printer,  and  sent  on  her  manuscript  several  days  before  the  expira- 
tion of  time.     There  are  on  record  few  equal  feats  of  rapid  writing.     The 
committee  were  nearly  a  year  reading  the  manuscripts,  of  which  there  were 
over  thirty.     The  first  prize  was  unanimously  awarded  to  Mrs.  Patterson's 
story.     Competent  judges  are  of  the  opinion  that  if  "Victory"  had  been  pub- 
lished as  soon  as  it  was  written,  and  just  at  the  close  of  the  war,  it  would 
have  circulated    widely.     As  it  was,  the   sale  was  largely  within  our  own 
denomination,  the  outside  world  fearing  a  secular  book  with  the  Universalist 
stamp.     As  it  was  passing  through  the  press,  in  the  Spring  of  18GG,  the 
agent  of  the  house  urged  Mrs.  Patterson  to  write  a  serial  for  the  "Beposi- 
tory"  which  should  illustrate  the  work  of  our  faith  in  daily  hfe.     She  had 
assisted  him  in  editing  the  magazine  during  the  Winter,  and  had  written  two 
short  stories,  "My  Hero"  and  "Pine  Eun  Bridge."     She  undertook  the  task 
of  a  long  story  with  great  reluctance,  doubting  her  strength  to  accomplish  it 
adequately.     But  the  need  of  our  church  of  books  suitable  for  the  Sunday- 
school,  urged  so  eloquently  by  the  agent,  stimulated  her  endeavor,  and  she 
produced  "Out  of  Sight,"  a  stoiy  into  which  she  wove  much  of  her  own 
vital  life,  in  a  truly  conscientious  desire  to  help  the  world.     While  it  was 
passing  through  the  "Eepository"  the  house  changed  agents,  and  the  story 
was  never  re-published  in  book  form,  according  to  the   original  intention. 


JANE    L.    PATTERSON.  255 

The  change  of  homes  to  Roxbury  came  about  this  time,  and  the  sorrow 
of  leaving  old  scenes,  places  and  friends,  and  especially  her  beloved  sister 
and  her  growing  family,  coupled  with  the  overstrain  in  the  work  of  brain 
and  hands,  1  nought  on  nervous  prostration,  which  rendered  her  a  semi- 
invalid  for  two  or  three  years,  and  from  which  she  has  not  yet  wholly  re- 
covered. She  is  obliged  to  do  her  mental  work  in  the  forenoon,  even  the 
writing  of  a  letter  after  dinner  often  causing  great  prostration.  Her  contri- 
butions of  prose  and  verse  to  the  "Ladies'  Repository"  while  Mrs.  Bingham 
edited  the  magazine,  were  as  frequent  as  her  strength  would  allow.  The 
first  time  she  ever  saw  this  able  and  now  translated  woman,  Mrs.  Bingham 
called  at  her  home  on  a  rainy  November  night,  in  the  Autumn  of  1808.  She 
had  taken  charge  of  the  "Repository,"  and  there  was  no  straw  of  which  bricks 
could  be  made.  Mrs.  Patterson  had  in  hand  a  story  of  twenty  pages  or 
more,  with  which  Mrs.  Bingham  was  much  pleased,  and  it  appeared  in  the 
first  number  which  she  edited.  After  "  Willitts  and  I,"  came  "  The  Belle  of 
the  Prairie,"  "Over  the  Plains,'1  "Which  is  Better,"  "The  Romance  of 
High  Rocks,"  "My  Lost  Banker,"  and  other  prose  articles  and  poems. 

In  January,  1879,  Mrs.  Patterson  became  one  of  the  editors  of  the 
"Christian  Leader,"  having  exclusive  charge  of  the  "Home  Department." 
By  stipulation  her  work  is  chiefly  that  of  selection.  But  she  can  not  be  con- 
tented to  fill  the  page  always  with  the  thoughts  of  others,  and  when  the 
spirit  moves  she  writes  a  poem  or  a  story.  She  gives  untiring  care  to  what- 
ever work  engages  her,  doing  it  to  the  best  of  her  ability  and  strength. 
Friends  outside  our  church  have  tried  to  enlist  her  in  secidar  periodicals, 
assuring  her  that  slie  could  receive  much  greater  compensation ;  but  she  is 
so  consecrated  a  Universalist  that  she  has  never  been  tempted  beyond  de- 
nominational limits. 

In  the  Summer  of  1872,  she  traveled  in  the  West  with  her  sick  husband, 
and  was  prostrated  in  St.  Paul  with  malarious  fever.  Up  to  that  time  she 
had  suffered  greatly  from  diffidence,  dreading  to  face  strangers  and  never  lift- 
ing her  voice  even  in  the  conference  room.  Face  to  face  with  death,  she 
became  emancipated  from  herself.  After  passing  under  the  cloud  and  through 
the  sea,  she  forgot  to  care  what  the  world  might  say  of  her  or  her  work. 
When  her  husband,  after  their  return,  was  again  prostrated  by  illness,  she 


256 


OUB    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


went  at  his  urgent  plea  into  bis  pulpit  and  conducted  tbe  Sunday  service. 
Tbe  people,  who  knew  bow  shrinking  she  had  been  in  the  past,  were  electri- 
fied at  her  appearance  in  this  high  place.  After  the  service,  which  the  people 
said  was  conducted  as  if  she  had  "done  it  a  thousand  times,"  they  gathered 
about  her,  and  requested  that  she  take  the  place  of  her  husband  whenever 
he  needed  the  assistance  of  a  minister,  if  she  was  able  to  do  so.  He  was  ill 
at  repeated  intervals  until  vacation,  and  she  served  in  his  stead  several  times. 
When  his  health  became  restored  she  kept  her  quiet  home  work  and  ways, 
unless  some  sick  minister  or  needy  church  or  institution  called  for  her  help. 
Mrs.  Patterson  has  always  taken  deep  interest  in  our  young  min- 
isters and  in  the  young  men  fitting  for  the  ministry.  Many  of  the  young 
men,  while  in  college,  have  found  in  her  house  a  home,  and  there  are  a  good 
dozen  of  our  young  ministers  who  affectionately  call  her  mother. 

In  the  summer  of  1878  Dr.  Patterson  visited  Europe.      As  soon  as  the 
voyage  was  suggested,  the  Committee  of  the  Eoxbury  parish  asked   that 
Mrs.  Patterson  supply  the  pulpit  until  his  return.      She  cheerfully  accepted 
the  charge,  not  only  preaching  on  Sunday  and  attending  the  Sunday-school 
and  the  week-day  meetings,  but  visiting  the  sick,   attending  funerals,   and 
answering  every  call  for  Christian  help  and  sympathy.     The  work  prospered 
in  her  hands.     The  congregation  steadily  increased,  and  some  excellent  fami- 
lies were  added  to  the  church,  who  have  ever  since  been  among  its  most 
effective  workers.     While  in  the  pulpit  she  forgets  everything  but  the  absorb- 
ing and  uplifting  service,  and  has  found  her  highest  experiences  while  com- 
muning with  God  on  this  mount  of  vision.    Her  sermons  are  thoughtful  and 
orderly,  and  yet  they  are  prose  poems.      Each  sermon  is  a  lyric  and,  deliv- 
ered in  her  faultless  elocution,  enlists  the  most  rapt  attention,  and  leaves  an 
impression  never  to  be  forgotten. 

A  few  years  ago,  a  class  in  the  Divinity  School,  some  of  whose  members 
were  frequently  in  her  home,  requested  of  her  the  favor  of  a  poem  on  their 
Zetagathean  Anniversary.  Rev.  A.  D.  Mayo  was  the  orator,  and  she  wrote 
for  the  occasion  a  poem  of  marked  power,  entitled  "The  Divine  Call." 

Mrs.  Patterson  has  done  a  good  deal  of  literary  work,  and  has  done  it 
well;  and  yet  she  scarcely  thinks  of  herself  as  a  literary  character  at  all. 
She  is  eminently  domestic.      There  is  nothing  iu  the  management  of  her 


JANE    L.    PATTERSON.  257 

home  with  which  she  is  not  particularly  familiar.  She  has  derived  more 
satisfaction  from  the  praises  lavished  upon  her  hread,  thau  from  all  the  good 
things  she  has  heard  concerning  the  productions  of  her  pen.  She  has 
always  extended  a  hountiful  hospitahty,  and  yet  she  presides  in  her  home 
with  so  much  ease  and  freedom  as  never  to  seem  hurdened  by  her  cares. 
She  is  scrupulously  careful  in  attending  to  all  the  little  details  of  duty. 

With  no  children  of  her  own  to  educate,  Mrs.  Patterson  has  bestowed 
much  careful  attention  upon  the  education  of  the  young.  Almost  constantly 
for  many  years  one  or  more  young  persons  have  been  inmates  of  her  home, 
while  enjoying  the  training  of  the  Boston  schools,  and  her  efforts  in  this  di- 
rection will  be  felt  as  an  influence  for  good,  long  after  her  pen  is  laid  aside  and 
her  busy  hand  is  still.  For  whatever  she  writes,  she  has  a  mother's  affection. 
This  comes  not  from  vanity,  for  toward  the  weaker  children  of  her  brain  it  is 
like  a  mother's  pity.  She  never  calls  her  verses  poems,  and  will  not  allow 
her  friends  to  call  her  a  poet.  Still  her  friends  believe  that  she  has  told 
some  pleasant  stories  by  her  rhymes,  and  impressed  some  needed  truths  as 
well.  I  will  append  one  or  two  as  samples  in  closing  my  notice  of  this 
woman-worker,  of  whose  life  it  may  be  justly  said :  "  She  hath  done  what 
she  could,"  in  love  and  honor  for  the  church,  which  has  done  all  for  her,  in 
giving  her  the  everlasting  faith,  which  has  been,  and  is  "an  anchor  to  the  soul 
sure  and  steadfast." 

A    SILVER    WEDDING. 

Just  flve-and-twcnty  years  ago 
While  yet  the  earth  was  white  with  snow, 
Nor  even  the  robin's  daring  strain 
Told  that  the  Spring  had  eome    again, 
Two  human  hearts  forgot  the  cold. 
Forgot  the  ice  on  stream  and  wold. 
And  fall  of  sunny  Bummer  weather 
Tried  building  a  new  world  together. 

Of  all  fair  things  their  world  was  made; 
With  precious  stones  its  floor  inlaid; 
Its  far  horizon  hung  with  stars. 
Its  roof  a  mass  of  rainbow  bars. 
While   all  the   fragrant    air  between 
Was  laden  with  the  golden  sheen 


258  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Of  sunshine,  and  the  brilliant  hues 
Of  blossoms,  born  of  honey-dews. 

'Twas  built  and  swung  in  ample  space 
That  constellation's  ranks  to  grace 
Above  the  sweep  of  telescope 
In  the  ethereal  realm  of  hope; 
Whose  name,  from  dawn  of  mortal  birth 
The  sweetest  known  in  heaven  or  earth, 
The  dearest  through  eternal  years  — 
God's  name,  Love's  constellation  bears. 

This  fair  new  world,  its  course  begun 
Around  the  attractive  central   sun 
Revolved,  in  order  fine  and  true, 
And  all  the  changing  seasons  knew 
Which  come  to  make  the  roses  bloom 
And  win  the  happy  song-birds  home; 
To  ripen  fruit   and  harvest  sheaf 
And  gild  the  radiant  Autumn  leaf. 

In  calm  and  storm  this  happy  pair 

Who  built  Love's  world   so  staunch  and   fair 

Have  kept  its  sunshine  and  its  stars, 

Its  fragrant  flowers  and  rainbow  bars. 

They  are  standing  now  amid    the  sheen 

Of  silver  light  which  falls  between 

The  ruddy  morning's  opening  glow 

And  splendors  which  the  sunsets  know. 

The  West   is  like  an  open  way 

To  mansions  of  eternal  day, 

Where  Love's  free  course  through  cycles  new, 

In  all  sweet  concord  leal  and  true, 

Shall  keep  its  freight  of  bliss  untold. 

Increasing,  as  the  age  of  gold 

With  warmer  radiance  clasps  the  sphere 

Which  Love's  true  wedlock  builded  here. 


"GOD    IS    A    SPIRIT." 

Waiting  a  little  down  by  the  spring. 

Weary  with  bearing  the  pitcher  all  day, 

Backward  and   forward  witli   patient  wing 
To  the   busy   harvesters  over  the  way, 

Came  there  a  vision  so  full  of  grace 

That  the  weary  traces   torsook   my  face. 


LUCY    M.    CREAMER.  250 

Back  from  the  view  of  the  present  hour. 

Far  away  from  the  common  scene, 
Girded  with  mountains,  God's  signs  of  power, 

A  deep,   still   well   in   a  rim  of  green; 
And  weary  with  travel,  and  toil  and  eare, 
My  Lord  and  my  Master  resting  there. 

Near  him  a  woman  her  pitcher  bore; 

He   pressed   his  lips  to  the  eooling  stone, 
And  gladly  drank  of  tin1  welcome  store, 

Humbly  asking  tin-  gracious  boon; 
While   sln>   with   wonder  akin  to  awe, 
Questioned  the  symbols  of  love  she  saw. 

Jesus  rested  by  Jacob's  well; 

Oh,  the  bliss  of  his  sympathy. 
How  like  a  wave's  o'er- mastering  swell 

It  lapped  my  soul  in  love's  full  sea. 
And  made  me  glad  of  the  smallest  sign 
That  I  am  his  and  he  is  mine! 

Deeper  and  fuller  than  Jacob's  well, 

Higher  and  stronger  than  Gerizim, 
The  truth  that  the  woman   heard  him  tell. 

As  she  waiting  listened  and  talked  with  him; 
And  I,  as  it  floated  adown  the  air, 
Found  new  strength  for  my  daily  care, 

Grateful  voices  singing  of  him 

Rose  from  the  mint-grass  round  the  spring,, 
Soared,  aloft  from  the  pitcher's  rim. 

Swelled  from  the  field  of  harvesting; 
"God  is  a  Spirit,"  the  full  song  said. 
And  his  field,  the  world,  shall  be  harvested. 


LUCY    M.    CREAMER 

Is  the  daughter  of  Josiali  and  Mary  Gore.  At  the  time  of  her  birth, 
March  27,  18-12,  they  were  living  in  Milford,  Conn.,  but  in  her  extreme  youth 
they  moved  to  New  Haven,  Conn.,  where  in  the  public  schools  she  received 
all  the  advantages  ever  given  her  for  an  education;  but  she  was  an  apt  pupil 


260  OUK    WOMAN    WOEKEBS. 

iiud  easily  acquired  and  retained  everything  that  was  taught  in  the  school. 
Once  reading  her  lesson  was  sufficient  to  insure  a  glib  recitation.  After 
leaving  school  she  became  an  omnivorous  reader.  She  regrets  reading  the 
great  number  of  novels  devoured  by  her  in  her  girlhood,  but  the  fairy  stories 
read  in  her  youth  give  cheeiy  and  delightful  memories  to  her  in  these  later 
years,  and  have  assisted  her  in  her  poetic  fancies.  She  woidd  advise  the 
reading  of  Bible  history  and  fairy  stories  to  all  young  people. 

Her  mother  very  early  in  life  became  a  member  of  the  Presbyterian 
church,  and  in  that  creed  the  children  were  taught,  although  the  father  pre- 
ferred the  Episcopal  church,  and  the  children  attended  with  him.  The  dark 
side  of  the  Presbyterian  catechism  at  times  pervaded  the  spirit  of  Lucy,  and 
her  youthful  heart  was  overcome  with  torturing  sympathy  for  her  family  and 
friends.  Very  early  in  life  she  found  that  the  jingling  of  rhymes  was  easy  to 
her,  but  she  took  no  especial  care  to  make  them,  only  "when  it  delighted  her 
school-mates,  and  for  compositions."  Although  she  was  a  very  hapjry  child 
by  nature,  and  the  buoyancy  of  her  spirits  was  enjoyed  by  all  her  friends,  her 
rhymes  always  took  a  doleful  turn,  and  the  effect  of  the  reading  of  them  up- 
on the  school  was  lachrymose  in  the  extreme.  I  greatly  fear  Miss  Lucy, 
after  seeing  the  effect  a  few  times,  made  an  extra  effort  to  intensify  the  flow 
of  tears. 

Mrs.  Creamer  says:  "I  had  a  fun-loving  nature,  but  I  also  had  long 
hours  of  silent  suffering.  I  was  ever  longing  for  some  unattainable  good. 
Nobody  answered  my  questionings  satisfactorily.  I  tried  to  learn  the  truth 
of  the  hereafter,  but  I  was  ever  put  off  with  replies  that  to  me  meant  nothing, 
or  else  sent  to  the  right-about,  with  the  words,  'You  are  not  old  enough  to 
understand  these  things.'  In  my  despondent  moods,  my  great  dissatisfaction 
with  myself,  not  being  able  to  be  as  good  as  I  really  wished  to  be,  gave  me 
longings  for  death.  To  die  and  go  up  to  heaven  and  see  God  on  his  great 
white  throne,  and  Jesus  standing  by  his  side,  showing  him  which  the  good 
people  were,  became  an  intensified  desire.  Dying  in  childhood  seemed  my 
only  chance  to  hear  the  sweet  and  welcome  words,  'Enter  thou  into  the 
joy  of  thy  Lord.'  "  In  one  of  these  painfully  despondent  moods,  practically 
thinking  over  in  her  consciousness  the  fact  of  her  mother's  prospect  in  the 
future  life,  sli"  wrote  the  following: 


LUCY    M.    CREAMER.  261 

THE    DYING    GIRL. 

"Farewell,  mother,  I  am  going, 

Going  to  Leave  this  world  of  care. 
And  in   heaven  I  hope  to  greet  thee, 

Hope  to  meet  my  mother  there. 

"Farewell,  father,  I  am  going, 

Going  to  leave  this  world  of  sin, 
But  if  you  ever  come  to  heaven 

I  hope  the  Lord  will  let  you  in!" 

I  do  not  quote  this  for  its  beautiful  diction,  or  poetical  worth,  but  to 
show  how  a  little  child  of  eight  years  can  suffer  when  the  character  of  God 
has  been  presented  with  its  most  winsome  trait,  Love,  obscured.  The  first 
stanza  shows  that  she  was  pretty  sure  of  meeting  her  mother,  who  had  believed 
in  God's  eternal  vengeance ;  but  about  her  father,  who  only  attended  the 
Episcopal  church,  and  was  not  a  member,  and  could  not  take  into  his  great 
heart  the  doctrine  of  eternal  retribution,  she  expresses  fear. 

Again  she  says :  "I  was  taught  to  believe  that  we  must  give  an  account 
of  every  idle  word,  and  on  solemn  investigation  most  of  my  words  seemed 
idle." 

When  she  was  about  fourteen,  a  series  of  revival  meetings  in  the  Meth- 
odist church  near  her  was  in  progress.  Many  of  her  school  friends  attended 
and  became  interested.  There  first  she  heard  the  love  of  Jesus  extolled  and 
sung,  until  her  heart  caught  the  refrain,  and  she  awoke  to  a  new  life.  When 
they  talked  of  hell  the  avenues  of  love  to  her  heart  would  close ;  but  when 
they  spoke  of  the  mighty  tenderness  the  yearning  Jesus  has  for  our  sick 
souls,  it  melted  all  obduracy,  and  she  felt  the  delight  of  being  loved  by  that 
great  and  tender  heart.  All  at  once  a  consciousness  of  some  all-comforting 
power  came  over  her  feelings.  She  thought  she  was  converted,  and  said  so, 
and  her  heart  was  baptized  with  the  love  of  God,  and  her  tongue  gave  utter- 
ance to  it  in  beautiful  language.  The  gift  of  prayer,  also,  was  hers,  and  her 
tender  pleadings  to  the  Savior  to  melt  the  hearts  of  the  sinful,  brought  forth 
the  loud  "amens."  A  tempter  came  to  her;  the  "aniens"  flattered  her — only 
fourteen,  remember — and  she  began  to  prepare,  commit,  her  speeches  and 
prayers,  and  then  a  feeling  of  condemnation  came  over  her  that  she  had  not 
left  God  to  speak  through  her  heart.     She  became  distressed  at  what  she  had 


262  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

done,  and  dreamed  one  night  that  she  died  and  went  before  God,  and  the 
only  thing  that  he  condemned  her  for  was  for  joining  the  Methodist  church, 
when  she  did  not  believe  in  its  doctrines.  He  pronounced  her  a  hypocrite, 
and  sent  her  to  the  lowest  hell  for  that!  She  writes:  "The  dream  made 
such  an  impression  upon  me,  that  I  could  neither  speak  nor  pray  in  public 
for  years,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  that  if  I  must  go  to  hell  I  would  not  go 
for  being  a  hypocrite." 

After  a  while  she  returned  to  the  Episcopal  church,  and  was  quietly  con- 
firmed, believing  that  there  she  could  find  perfect  rest.  But  shs  soon  found 
that  there  were  some  parts  of  the  liturgy  she  coidd  not  repeat,  and  immedi- 
ately she  set  to  work  reading  to  learn  the  truth. 

In  1865  she  was  married  to  Charles  N.  Creamer,  of  New  York,  who  was 
to  her  a  most  kind  and  generous  husband  for  eleven  years ;  at  the  end  of  that 
time  she  had  the  sorrow  of  seeing  him  suddenly  lose  his  reason,  and  on  the 
4th  of  June,  1878,  just  two  years  from  the  first  manifestation  of  the  disease, 
he  died  of  brain  fever. 

It  was  in  1869,  when  this  great  sorrow-cloud  was  upon  her  heart,  that 
she  heard  that  Eev.  P.  A.  Hanaford  was  to  preach  in  town.  With  others 
she  discussed  the  propriety  of  hearing  a  woman  preach,  but  they  decided  to 
go.     And  Mrs.  Creamer  says: 

"She  had  a  sweet  face  and  a  pleasing  manner,  but  above  all  her  attrac- 
tions was  the  fact  that  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  heard  my  own  thoughts 
voiced.  And  it  was  as  if  I  had  stood  up  myself,  and  told  truly  and  faithfully 
what  seemed  to  me  true  about  life  and  death  and  God ;  and  I  further  thought 
and  said,  'If  this  is  Universalism,  then  I  am  a  Universalist.'  I  did  not  make 
haste.  Sunday  after  Sunday  I  listened  to  her,  until  the  time  came  when  I 
felt  impelled  to  avow  my  circumstances,  and  ask  these  people  if  they  would 
let  me  come  and  work  among  them.  I  united  with  the  church,  Mrs.  Hana- 
ford giving  me  the  right  hand  of  fellowship.  I  can  not  tell  to  you  the  sense 
of  freedom  that  came  to  me  with  this  new  experience.  All  the  weight  of 
doubt  and  protest  at  the  inconsistencies  of  God's  goodness  and  justice,  Jesus' 
supremacy  in  wisdom  and  sacrifice,  floated  away  as  mist  rises  from  a  mount- 
ain-top, and  the  underlying  principles  of  eternal  love  and  mercy,  infinite  wis- 
dom that  shapes  all  things  to  their  end,  and  divine  justice  that  will  not  allow 


LUCY    M.     CREAMER.  263 

one  jot  or  tittle  of  law  to  be  transgressed  by  so  much  as  a  hair's  breadth, 
became  apparent,  as  the  daylight  of  unbidden  thought  shone  upon  them." 

Mrs.  Creamer  became  a  very  efficient  Sunday-school  teacher,  and 
retained  one  class  of  girls  for  five  years.  Her  watchfulness  and  anxiety 
through  the  illness  of  her  husband  somewhat  undermined  her  health.  She 
read  medicine  for  some  time  through  the  advice  of  Mrs.  D.  S.  Connor,  M. 
D.,  and  then  graduated  at  the  New  Haven  Training  School  for  Nurses,  and 
remained  there  until  she  accepted  the  superintendency  of  the  House  of 
Mercy,  Pittsfield  Hospital,  Mass. 

Although  Mrs.  Creamer  has  had  great  trouble,  and  experienced  much 
suffering,  since  she  heard  Mrs.  Hanaford  preach  her  beautiful  faith,  her  con- 
victions have  been  since  then,  that  God's  goodness  can  not  fail,  however  the 
clouds  may  disguise  it.  And  from  that  time  on,  she  says:  "I  have  felt 
songs  growing  up  in  my  soul,  and  larger  usefulness  opening  out  before  me, 
and  I  have  sung  my  songs  and  done  my  work  with  a  happy  heart." 

The  following  are  selected  from  her  poems : 

UNAVAILING. 

.    One  day  up  toward  a  shelving  shore, 
A  earcdess  wave  at  flood-tide  crept; 
Laughing  and  rippling  more  and  more. 
As  near  and  nearer  the   waiting  shore. 
With  dance  and  glitter  and  sparkle,  it  swept. 

At  last  with  a  touch  like  a  kiss. 

The  shore  and  the  little  wave  met; 

Then  the  wave  Leapt  back  to  the  ocean's  breast, 

Willi  a  pain  in  her  heart,  and  a  strange  unrest. 

And   the   rugged  shore   as   with   tears   was   wet. 

Oh,  fain   would  the  bright  little  wave 
Have   lingered  to  sport  with  the  shore. 
With  glitter  and  sparkle  to  sue   it; 
With   low  happy  murmurs  to  woo  it. 
And  play  in  delight  at  its  side  evermore. 

But  the   little   wave   sobs   and   sighs 

For   tin'   shore   that    is   kissed   and    left. 

And  though   hidden   deep  iu   the   ocean's   breast. 

It  never,  no  never'll  be  quite  at  rest, 

And  the  shore  is  sad  of   its  smile  bereft. 


264  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

While  echoing  still  that  stifled  moan, 

Is  ever  heard  by  the  patient  shore 

That  surf-beaten,  storm-lashed,  or  still  and  lone, 

Still  listens  for  one  low  murmuring  tone, 

And  waits  the  return  of  the  wave  evermore. 


TO-DAY, 

Now  is  the  fulness  of  the  perfect  season; 

This  is  the  day  that  holds  all  days  in  one, 
The  present  hour  enfolds  both  faith   and  reason 

In  its  embrace,  and  claims  a  victory  won. 

The  ache  of  hearts  to-day  is  spent  in  healing, 
The  joy  of  life  increases  with  its  sway, 

And  Time  that  hitherto  seemed  void  of  feeling, 
Is  throbbing  like  a  human  pulse  to-day. 

The  life  that  wraps  the  earth,  a  crimson   ocean, 
"With  ebb  and  flow  laps  it  on  every  side, 

And  surges  with  an  ever  restless  motion, 
Claiming  its  own,  to  with  its  own  abide. 

Each  noble  deed  to-day  bears  on  its  bosom, 
Was  yesterday  a  yearning  in  some  breast, 

Responding  to  the  longing  for  a  fusion,  ■ 

That  good  for  good  somewhere  in  life  possessed. 

To-day  has  clouds,  but  who  would  miss  the  wonder? 

The  sunshine  colors  them  with  golden  light. 
To-day  has  storms;  the  sunshine  and  the  thunder 

Awakes  the  power  of  thought  by  eaar  or  sight. 

To-day,  to-day,  the  gladdening  earth  rejoices, 
Her  life  drinks  deeper  of  the  crimson  flood, 

And  what  was  ill  in  yesterday  all  voices 

Within  her  soul,  declare  to-day  proves  good. 

That  hearts  have  ached  must  ache  e'er  reason  teaches 
The  lessons  of  the  best,  the  highest  skill; 

To-day  has  learned,  and  in  her  turn  she  preaches 
A  quick  submission  to  a  Mighty  Will. 

A  glorious  Past  sends  all  its  rays  to  brighten 
The  golden  splendor  of  its  peerless  shine, 

And  the  fair  Sun  of  Righteousness  shall  brighten 
From  East  to  West  with  Reason's  light  divine. 


CYNTHIA    OLDS    HATHAWAY.  265 

WHAT    IS    DEATH  ? 

What's   Death? 
'Tis  but  the  folding  of  the  hands  in  sleep, 

After  ;i  day  of  Labor  or  <>f  strife, 
To  be  awakened  by  the  gleams  of  dawn, 

The  golden  dawn  of  an  eternal  life. 

What's  Death? 
'Tis  but  the  flitting  of  a  Summer  cloud 

That   darkens   for  a   moment  life's  bright  sky, 
That   washes   out  the   stains   of  earth   and  time, 

That  leaves  the  soul  refreshed,  and  passes  by. 

What's  death  V 
'Tis  but  the  laying  down  of  care  and  pain, 

To  work  and  weary   not  in   fields  more  fair, 
To  know  that  here  we  did  not  love  in  vain, 

For  Love's  great  heart  itself  receives  us  there. 


CYNTHIA    OLDS   HATHAWAY, 

Who  has  gone  up  into  the  light  of  the  eternal  morning,  was  born  in  Brim- 
field,  Mass.,  February  23,  1820.  As  a  child  she  was  very  diffident  and  retiring, 
but  as  she  grew  into  womanhood  her  shyness  was  a  becoming  reserve,  and 
all  through  life  she  had  the  bearing  of  a  quiet,  dignified  woman.  She  was 
married  to  Mr.  P.  M.  Hathaway,  in  the  Universalist  church  at  Warren,  Mass., 
April  18,  1847,  by  Rev.  J.  H.  Moore.  She  has  been  a  contributor  to  our 
papers  and  periodicals  for  many  years.  "The  Universalist,"  now  "Christian 
Leader,"  and  "Ladies'  Repository,"  were  her  favorite  meditims,  through  which 
to  express  her  thoughts.  She  was  very  modest  in  regard  to  her  talents  as  a 
writer,  and  seldom  sent  anything  for  publication  without  consulting  her  hus- 
band, although  she  was  superior  to  him  in  literary  ability.  Some  of  her 
prose  articles,  which  attracted  attention,  were  "The  Minister's  Calling,"  and 
"Our  Relation  to  God."  The  latter  was  highly  commended  by  G.  H.  Emer- 
son, D.D.,  the  able  editor  and  fine  critic.  From  among  her  poems,  perhaps 
"The  Prodigal  Son,"  "Just  Out  of  Sight,"  and  "Reunion"  woidd  be  consider- 

1S 


266  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ed  superior.      "Under  the  Oleander"  I  take  pleasure  in  presenting,  as  it  was 
a  favorite  of  her  own.     It  was  an  inspiration  from  a  veritable  circumstance : 

UNDER    THE    OLEANDER. 

Within  my  humble,  quiet  room, 

A  tall,  green  oleander  flings 
The  perfume  of  its  clustered  bloom. 

Abroad  on  many  viewless  wings. 

And  every  day  a  little  child 

In  long-sleeved  tire  and  Quaker  hood, 
Trips  gaily  in  with  aspect  mild, 

To  share  my  fragrant  solitude. 

A  little  girl  whose  four  swift  years, 

Like  diamonds  gleam  upon  her  brow, 
More  smiles  are  hers,  and  fewer  tears, 

Than  often  childhood's  days  endow. 

Beneath  the  oleander  tree, 

She  takes  her  wonted  seat  the  while, 
And  now   her  talk  flows  fast  and  free, 

While  I  reply  by  word  or  smile. 

Anon  I  call  her  roving  thought 

To  the   bright  flowers  above  her  head, 
Not  to  instruct,  but  to  be  taught 

By  what  in  childish  lore  is  said, 

And  still  I  wonder  more  and  more. 

At  her  quaint  sayings,  wisdom-fraught 
As  oft  I  stand  rebuked,  before 

The  subtler  beauty  of  her  thought. 

We  speak  of  that  Almighty  power, 

That  from  the  dark  repulsive  earth, 
Brings  forth  the  green  leaf  and  the   flower, 

And  gives  to  all  their  timely   birth. 

And  now  we  pass  to  God's  sweet  love, 

His  watchful   and  o'ershadowing  care, 
That  guardeth  all,  below,  above, 

The  Little  child  and   floweret  fair. 

And  then  she  says  with  lisping  word, 

Her  shining  eyes  with  love  a-light, 
"He   is  so  good,   T   love   the  Lord, 

I  do!    r  told   Him  so  last  night." 


CYNTHIA    OLDS    HATHAWAY.  267 

Mrs.  Eathaway  died  in  Brookfield,  Mass.,  March  28,  1879,  and  was 
buried  from  the  church  in  which  she  was  married  thirty-four  years  previously. 

In  my  correspondence  with  Mr.  Hathaway,  he  says:  "I  am  glad  to  have 
an  opportunity  to  speak  of  the  dear  departed,  for  she  was  amiability  person- 
ified, and  often  my  lips  repeat  the  words  of  Mrs.  Hemans: 

"  O  !    while  with  me  she  lived. 
Would  I  had  loved  her  more ! " 


HELEN    L.    WEAVER. 

Helen  Lane  was  the  daughter  of  Epes  and  Mary  Lane,  and  was  bom  in 
Lanesville,  Mass.  (now  a  part  of  Gloucester),  October  26,  1836.  In  child- 
hood she  showed  great  love  for  books  and  aptness  to  learn.  She  made  teach- 
ing her  chosen  vocation,  and  completed  her  preparation  for  it  at  the  Salem 
Normal  School,  where  she  graduated  among  the  first  in  her  class,  though 
among  the  youngest  in  age.  She  at  once  entered  upon  the  work  she  was  so 
well  fitted  for,  and  in  it  achieved  success.  "While  teaching  in  Chelsea  she 
became  acquainted  with  Professor  Lewis  B.  Monroe,  afterward  Dean  of 
the  Boston  University  School  of  Oratory,  and  then  just  rising  into  notice 
by  his  system  of  vocal  culture.  She  at  once  joined  his  classes  and  soon 
showed  such  development  of  oratorical  powers  that  the  pupil  almost  rivaled 
the  teacher.  Rev.  C.  H.  Leonard,  D.D.,  (Professor  in  Tufts  Divinity  School) 
"was  her  most  loved  minister,  from  whose  semions  she  received  her  deepest 
religious  impressions,  and  of  whose  church  she  became  an  active  and  effi- 
cient member. 

She  was  married  November  1,  1862,  to  Rev.  A.  J.  Weaver,  pastor  of  the 
Universalist  church  in  Fitchburg,  Mass.  She  resided  here  scarcely  two  years 
when  her  husband's  health  failing  he  sought  relief  by  an  overland  trip  to  the 
Pacific  coast.      She  soon  followed  by  steamer,  and  for  nearly  three  years  was 


268  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

head  assistant  in  the  Washington  street  Grammar  School  in  San  Francisco. 
They  then  both  returned  east,  and  her  husband  accepted  an  invitation  to  the 
pastorate  of  the  new  Universalist  church  in  Biddeford,  Maine. 

It  was  during  their  residence  here  that  Mrs.  Weaver  mainly  gained  her 
reputation  as  a  public  reader.  She  read  from  the  pure  love  of  it.  It 
was  her  native  element.  She  read  as  the  birds  fly,  because  it  was  born  in 
her,  and  to  her  there  was  a  charm  about  it  that  enraptured  her,  and  flooded 
her  with  delight.  Like  music  or  painting  or  oratory,  it  was  a  gift,  a  great 
gift,  which  was  made  more  perfect  and  effective  by  a  long  course  of  vocal  train- 
ing.      In  the  gratification  of  this  gift  lay  the  sweetness  of  her   existence. 

Mrs.  Weaver,  for  the  last  five  years  of  her  life,  lived  in  Las  Animas,  Col., 
where  her  husband's  health  made  it  necessary  for  them  to  reside.  She  was 
East  among  her  friends  on  a  visit,  when  after  a  few  days'  severe  illness  she 
passed  away,  Aug.  25,  1879 — -42  years  old.  Her  departure  from  earth  was 
so  striking  and  beautiful  that  its  like  is  seldom  seen.  It  was  supposed  and 
announced  by  the  physicians  that  she  would  recover.  One  morning  on 
awakening  she  called  her  sister  (at  whose  house  she  was  sick)  to  her  room, 
and  said:  "Last  night  it  came  to  me  that  I  can  not  get  well,  but  that  I 
shall  die  to-morrow.  I  wish  you  to  send  a  telegram  at  once  to  that  effect,  to 
my  husband  in  Colorado,  and  to  my  father  and  mother." 

She  then  called  for  paper,  and  wrote  a  long  letter  to  her  husband,  bid- 
ding him  good  bye,  and  saying  she  would  wait  for  him  on  the  other  side. 
She  wrote  two  more  to  absent  friends.  She  then  distributed  her  articles  of 
adornment  to  her  friends.  She  called  for  paper  and  made  out  full  arrange- 
ments for  the  services  at  her  funeral.  She  then  sent  for  the  minister  whom 
she  wished  to  attend  and  gave  him  the  order  of  service  which  she  had  pre- 
pared, specifying  the  selections  of  Scripture  and  hymns.  Her  mind  was  calm 
and  clear.  In  her  letter  to  her  husband,  she  said:  "I  have  already  begun 
to  die.  My  feet  are  even  now  cold,  and  the  chill  of  death  is  stealing  toward 
my  vitals.     What  I  say  I  must  say  quickly." 

She  was  constantly  conversing  of  the  other  world  and  of  those  who  had 
gone  before  her  and  were  waiting  to  welcome  her.  Indeed,  for  a  whole  day 
before  the  close  she  did  not  seem  to  be  in  either  world  wholly,  but  rather  to 
vibrate  between  the  two,  having  a  hold  on  earth  with  her  senses  but  touching 


LUCY    S.    SMITH.  269 

the  heavenly  world  with  her  spiritual  nature.  Longfellow's  beautiful  poem, 
beginning,  "There  is  no  death!  What  seems  so  is  transition,"  was  con- 
stantly on  her  lips;  what  work  she  would  do,  what  friends  meet,  and  what 
enjoyments  possess  in  the  future  world,  were  the  topics  of  her  conversation. 
Such  a  thing  as  doubt  did  not  seem  to  occur  to  her.  She  had  a  friend,  Mrs. 
S.,  in  Colorado,  who  had  just  lost  her  young  babe,  and  she  said:  "Tell  Mrs- 
S.  I  will  try  and  find  her  babe,  and  will  take  care  of  it  for  her  till  she 
comes." 

Said  her  sister,  afterward,  in  describing  her  death:  "All  the  beautiful 
things  the  minister  said  at  the  funeral  sounded  to  me  stale,  after  listening  to 
Helen  for  three  days."  As  the  hour  approached  about  which  it  had  "come 
to  her"  that  she  should  die,  she  called  the  family  and  friends  about  the  bed, 
took  each  one  by  the  hand  and  said  good  bye,  and  then  closing  her  eyes,  she 
was  gone.     An  appropriate  end  for  a  noble  life. 

The  "Leader,"  of  Las  Animas,  Col., — her  home — said:  "In  the  death  of 
this  estimable  lady,  the  loss  not  only  to  her  husband,  but  to  the  entire  com- 
munity, is  simply  irreparable.  Society  sought  her  on  eveiy  hand  for  her 
genial  manners,  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  and  her  rare  accomplishment 
as  a  reader." 


LUCY    S.    SMITH. 

This  particularly  bright,  intelligent  woman,  was  the  daughter  of  Sam- 
uel and  Eunice  Deming  StiUman,  and  was  born  in  Whitestown,  Oneida  Co., 
N.  Y.,  July  11,  1792.  She  was  married  to  Rev.  Stephen  R.  Smith,  March 
27,  1821.  She  has  lived  in  widowhood  since  February  17,  1850.  She  is 
the  mother  of  ten  children,  live  of  whom  are  living.  Mrs.  Smith  was  a  rare 
woman  in  her  day.  A  day  with  the  Smiths  was  something  to  be  looked  for- 
ward to  with  great  pleasure  by  the  clergy  and  scholars  generally.  Her  con- 
versation sparkled  with  wit;  she  was  quick  at  repartee,  and  sometimes  in- 
dulged in  a  sarcasm. 


270  OUE     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

The  following  is  from  her  son,  Junius  S.  Smith,  of  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  to 
whom  I  wrote  for  information : 

"Yours  received  some  days  since.  The  answer  I  have  delayed  in  order 
to  talk  it  over  with  mother  and  my  sisters,  yesterday  heing  mother's  eighty- 
ninth  birthday.  She  sees  very  well,  reads  a  great  deal  for  a  person  of  her 
age,  knits  and  enjoys  work  of  that  kind,  and  greatly  enjoys  the  visits  of  her 
friends,  although  her  hearing  for  the  past  two  or  three  years  has  been  a  little 
dull.  She  occasionally  takes  a  ride  for  an  hour  or  two,  but  of  course  does 
not  walk  any  considerable  distance;  is  still  the  center  of  the  household. 
She  has  never  done,  so  far  as  I  know,  much  literary  work,  and  has  no  de- 
sire for  notoriety  in  any  form." 

The  following  is  from  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  who  knew  well  and  appreciated 
this  most  interesting  woman. 

"The  following  incident  may  serve  to  show  the  quiet  manner  and  ready 
wit,  as  well  as  the  humanity  and  good  common  sense  of  this  amiable  and 
excellent  woman,  who  yet  survives  in  her  home  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  at  an  ad- 
vanced age — 'a  mother  in  Israel'  indeed. 

"A  party  of  lay  and  ministering  brethren,  from  their  various  neighbor- 
hoods, had  gathered  in  the  parlor  of  Bro.  S.  R.  Smith,  in  Clinton,  N.  Y. 
They  were  waiting  for  dinner,  that,  in  company  with  their  host,  they  might 
immediately  after  start  for  their  common  destination,  to  attend  an  associa- 
tion or  conference  the  next  day.  The  weather  was  dark  and  lowering,  with 
occasional  showers,  and  the  roads  were  very  muddy.  The  distance  to  be 
traveled  rendered  an  early  start  desirable  that  their  ride  might  be  ended 
before  nightfall.  But  knowing  the  promptitude  of  'the  gude  wife'  in  all  her 
household  ways,  they  waited  in  serene  confidence,  as  they  gathered  into 
small  groups,  and  beguiled  the  time  between  glances  at  the  dark  clouds  above 
and  the  drenched  earth  beneath,  with  the  cordial  chat  which  enlivened  such 
occasional  meetings  of  the  brethren  of  the  olden  time.  Among  the  guests 
were  Rev.  Geo.  Messenger,  then  just  entering  our  ministry,  and  Rev.  John 
Samuel  Thompson,  a  late  Irish  convert  from  the  Methodists — the  former  un- 
assuming, diffident,  even  shrinking  in  humility  before  assuming  pretension ; 
and  the  latter,  pompous,  boastful  of  his  superior  learning  and  ability,  and 
inclined  to  lord  it  over    any  who  would  admit  his  arrogant   pretensions. 


LUOY    H.    SMITH.  271 

Bro.  Thompson  soon  found  a  desirable  listener  in  Bro.  Messenger,  who 
had  seated  himself  in  a  distant  corner  of  the  room,  and  opened  conversation 
on  his  favorite  topics — his  great  erudition  and  wonderful  attainments,  and 
the  consequent  advancement  at  which  he  would  enter  the  spirit  world  before 
more  ignorant  and  less  cultured  soids,  and  the  greater  glory  which  would  be 
awarded  him  there!  Poor  Bro.  Messenger  shrunk  more  and  more  within 
himself,  before  the  towering  form,  as  the  ponderous  sentences  of  'great  swell- 
ing words  of  vanity'  rolled  forth ;  and  as  he  shrunk  in  silent  but  visible  diffi- 
dence, the  boaster's  tones  grew  more  loud,  and  his  bearing  more  lordly. 

"Just  then  Bro.  Smith  glanced  around  the  room,  and  saw  Mrs.  Smith 
seated  at  a  table,  seemingly  so  engrossed  in  reading  a  book  as  to  be  utterly 
oblivious  of  preparing  dinner,  and  the  greatly  needed  haste  in  starting  on 
the  journey!  Surprised — even  startled  at  the  unexpected  and  unwelcome 
sight,  he  spoke  so  earnestly  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  the  whole  company 
— 'Why,  Lucy!  do  you  not  know  how  far  we  have  to  ride  in  these  bad  roads 
before  night,  and  the  necessity  of  an  early  dinner,  that  we  may  start  early?' 

"Smilingly  closing  the  book,  she  calmly  replied  with  an  unmistakable 
look  and  emphasis,  'Yes,  I  know  all  that;  but  if,  as  Mr.  Thompson  says, 
we  are  to  be  advanced  above  others  in  glory  and  happiness  in  the  next 
world,  according  to  our  knowledge  and  acquirements  in  this  life,  I  thought 
somebody  else  might  get  our  dinners,  and  I  would  spend  the  time  in  acquir- 
ing knowledge,  so  as  to  share  in  his  great  superiority  over  others  in  the  world 
to  come.'  Curtesying  gracefully,  she  left  the  room.  The  company  smiled, 
and  some  even  laughed  in  appreciation  of  this  palpable  application  of  the 
Apostle's,  'What  have  we  that  we  have  not  received?'  and  the  Savior's 
'When  ye  have  done  all  that  is  commanded,  say,  We  are  unprofitable  ser- 
vants.' But  the  poor  self-in'oriner  (his  arguments  wilted  before  her  keen 
and  polished  wit,  and  his  pretensions  punctured  by  her  sharp  though  humor- 
ous rebuke),  stood  gulping  down  liis  wrath  and  embarrassment,  wondering 
what  had  so  stung  and  discomfited  him! 

"The  above  anecdote,  in  substance,  I  had  from  Bro.  S.  R.  Smith  him- 
self, many  years,  if  not  more  than  half  a  century  ago,  and  related  in  the 
very  room  where  the  events  took  place." 

Rev.  L.  ('.  Browne  sail  recenth  in  the  "Christian  Leader' 


272  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"Several  of  the  widows  of  our  deceased   clergymen  reside  in  Western 
New  York.     Always  foremost  among  these  we  have  in  mind  is  Mrs.  Stephen 

E.  Smith 'Aunt  Lucy.'     Her  home  is  in  Buffalo,  where  she  lives  in  comfort 

and  is  approaching  the  age  of  fourscore  and  ten.  Few  women  we  have  ever 
known  have  been  endowed  with  such  strength  and  fortitude  and  motherly 
patience  and  prudence.  No  minister's  wife  of  our  order  in  this  State  has 
set  so  many  meals  for  travelling  ministers;  and  none  with  so  moderate  rev- 
enues. When  the  State  Convention  was  fixed  at  Utica  there  have  been,  we 
think,  no  fewer  than  forty  ministerial  guests  at  the  old  parsonage  in  Clinton 
within  the  space  of  two  weeks." 


EMELINE   C.    TOMLINSON. 

Mrs.  Tomlinson  is  such  a  woman  as  the  poet  had  in  his  mind  when  he 
spoke  of  one  whose  days  were 

"Bound  each  to  each,  in   natural  piety," 

and  yet  as 

"Not  too  «ood 
iPor  human  nature's  daily  food." 

Cheerful  in  disposition,  sunny  in  temperament,  vivacious  in  manner, 
bright  and  witty  in  conversation,  with  a  constant  set  of  immovable  purposes 
in  behalf  of  her  religious  and  moral  convictions,  and  yet  with  no  domestic 
duty  neglected,  and  no  social  obligation  unfulfilled,  she  might  well  be  put 
forward  as  a  product  of  that  religious  faith  which  she  prizes  above  all  else. 
She  has  done  much  for  it,  but  it  has  done  far  more  for  her  than  she  can  ever 

do  for  it. 

Mrs.  Tomlinson  first  opened  her  eyes  upon  this  bright  world  May  20, 
1831.  She  was  peculiarly  fortunate  in  being  well  born.  At  that  time  very 
little  attention  was  paid  to  the  laws  of  heredity,  but  no  taint  of  blood,  no 
unbridled  passion  or  unholy  appetites  were  transmitted  from  cither  parent. 
The    home  where  her  young  fife  was  passed  was  on  a  farm  in  Perinton, 


,;':±  '  V.A/"1< 


, 


EMELINE  C.  TOMLINSON. 


EMELINE    C.    T0MLIN80N.  278 

Monroe  Co.,  N.  Y.,  just  east  of  the  city  of  Rochester.  Here  she  developed 
naturally  and  healthfully,  perhaps  a  little  spoiled  by  an  only  and  older  sister 
and  brother,  who  contended  for  the  care  of  the  baby  of  the  household. 

At  eight  years  of  age  her  father  rented  his  beautiful  farm  and  removed 
to  Geneseo,  Livingston  Co.,  where  there  was  a  flourishing  academy,  in  order 
that  his  children  might  have  an  opportunity  to  obtain  a  thorough  education. 
For  in  those  days  the  public  schools  were  not  what  they  now  are,  and  there 
was  no  good  school  nearer  than  Rochester.  The  son  was  sent  there  awhile, 
but  when  the  two  daughters  had  outgrown  the  district  school,  the  father 
determined  to  remove  where  his  children  could  board  at  home  and  have  the 
advantages  of  a  thorough  education.  He  was  led  to  do  this  from  the  fact 
that  he  had  been  deprived  of  that  great  privilege.-  He  remained  three  years 
at  Geneseo  at  a  great  pecuniary  loss,  then  returned  to  his  own  home. 

Amy,  the  older  daughter,  was  at  an  age  when  she  coidd  improve  these 
great  opportunities,  but  Emeline  was  only  eleven  when  they  returned  to  the 
old  home.  Therefore  the  next  Summer  she  was  sent  to  Rochester  where  she 
attended  one  of  the  public  schools,  and  where  she  made  wonderful  progress  in  her 
studies.  Afterward  she  attended  six  months  at  an  academy  near  her  father's. 
Mrs.  Tomlinson,  in  speaking  of  what  she  did  after  her  academic  labors, 
remarks,  "I  taught  the  young  idea  of  the  neighboring  village  target  practice 
one  season."  In  the  Fall  of  1849  she  went  to  Albany  to  attend  the  State 
Normal  School.  She  was  then  but  seventeen.  Her  acquirements  were  such 
that  she  graduated-  in  one  year,  although  it  required  severe  study  to  accom- 
plish it.  Study  was  no  task;  she  was  never  so  happy  as  when  in  school, 
and  she  has  told  me  that  the  saddest  day  she  had  ever  known  was  that  on 
which  she  received  her  diploma,  and  felt  that  her  school  days  were  over. 
She  says,  "There  were  no  colleges  at  that  time  open  to  women,  and  1  felt  that 
I  had  only  sipped  at  the  fount  of  learning."  She  further  says,  "A  feeling 
almost  of  indignation  took  possession  of  me  at  the  injustice  shown  to  my  sex, 
nor  have  I  ever  ceased  to  feel  that  I  was  defrauded  of  my  divine  right." 

After  six  months  spent  at  home  she  took  the  school  in  her  own  district 
to  teach  for  one  year.  But  at  the  end  of  four  months,  Sept.  10,  1850,  she 
was  married  to  Rev.  D.  C.  Toinlinson,  and  removed  to  Newark,  Wayne  Co., 
where  Mr.  Tomlinson  had  already  been  settled  as  pastor  one  year.     She 


211  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

entered  with  her  whole  soul  into  the  work  of  the  church,  for  she  had  always 
loved  it.  Mrs.  Tomlinson  says,  "I  was  a  birthright  Universalist,  both  my 
parents  being  zealous  advocates  of  our  glorious  faith,  both  having  been  con- 
verted from  old-school  Presbyterianism. "  Her  father  said  to  a  clergyman, 
"There  is  one  member  of  my  family  who  is  alwas  ready  to  attend  church, 
nor  am  I  ever  obliged  to  wait  for  even  the  tying  of  her  bonnet  strings."  Mrs. 
Tornlinson's  love  of  church-going  has  increased  from  that  time  on  to  the 
present.  From  girlhood  she  has  been  a  teacher  in  the  Sunday-school,  and 
in  her  younger  days  a  member  of  the  choir.  Mr.  Tomlinson  jocosely  told 
me  one  day  that  he  thought  Mrs.  Tomlinson  fell  in  love  with  his 
profession  quite  as  much  as  with  him.  Her  duties  as  a  minister's  wife, 
although  arduous,  were  never  irksome,  and  in  every  parish  where  they 
resided  she  found  her  duties  labors  of  love. 

At  the  General  Convention  in  Buffalo,  in  18G9,  she  and  her  husband 
were  among  the  first  to  suggest  that  Universalist  women  should  organize  into 
an  association  to  help  secure  the  Murray  Fund.  Mr.  Tomlinson  always 
referred  with  pride  to  the  fact  that  he  gave  the  first  notice  to  call  the  ladies 
together  who  were,  afterwards  the  organizers  of  our  great  and  noble  Associa- 
tion. Mrs.  Tomlinson  called  the  meeting  to  order,  and  was  nominated  to 
preside  at  the  first  meeting,  but  declined  in  favor  of  Mrs.  J.  M.  Whitcomb, 
M.  D.  Mrs.  Tomlinson  was  elected  Secretary  ]>ro  tan.,  and  at  the  perma- 
nent organization  was  elected  Kecording  Secretary.  This  office,  at  that  time, 
involved  a  great  amount  of  labor,  and  was  filled  by  her  until  the  Grand  Centen- 
nial gathering  at  Gloucester,  when  she  resigned  it  to  take  .charge  of  a  little 
daughter  born  one  month  previous.  The  officers  of  the  Association  appreci- 
ate, as  no  one  else  can,  the  amount  of  labor  performed  by  Mrs.  Tomlinson, 
Secretary,  and  Mrs.  Adams,  Treasurer  of  the  Association. 

In  May,  1872,  Mr.  Tomlinson  accepted  the  position  of  Financial  Sec- 
retary of  Buchtel  College,  Ohio,  and  the  following  October  the  family  re- 
moved to  Akron,  Ohio. 

In  the  Spring  of  1874,  the  great  temperance  movement,  known  as  the 
Crusade,  was  inaugurated.  From  the  first,  Mrs.  Tomlinson  felt  a  divine  call 
to  this  work,  and  enough  of  her  father's  spirit  pervaded  her  soul  to  forbid 


EMELINE    C.    TOMLINSON.  275 

lier  being  "disobedient  to  the  heavenly  vision."  Wherever  duty  calls,  she  is 
true  to  that  high  behest;  and  at  this  time  she  buckled  on  the  armor  for  life, 
feeling  that  it  was  not  a  battle  that  coidd  be  fought  in  a  day,  but  was  a  war- 
fare against  principalities  and  powers,  against  wickedness  in  high  places, 
which  would  require  time — years  perchance — to  win  the  victory.  And  she 
labored  as  though  she  never  admitted  a  doubt  that  the  right  would  prevail. 
From  the  first  she  took  an  active  part,  leading  a  band  the  first  day  the  la- 
dies went  on  the  street.  When  the  women  organized  for  permanent  effort, 
she  was  elected  first  Vice-President,  which  office  she  filled  while  she  resided 
in  Akron,  six  years.  When  the  street  work  was  discontinued,  the  subject  of 
a  Friendly  Inn  was  discussed  in  which  Mrs.  T.  took  the  deepest  interest. 
The  idea  finally  crystallized  into  a  comfortable  inn  with  reading  and  din- 
ing room  on  the  first  floor  and  assembly  room  above,  which  was  used  for 
prayer-meetings  and  business.  Here,  too,  the  Dorcas  Society  met,  a  benevolent 
organization  composed  of  ladies  from  all  the  churches,  and  designed  to  aid 
the  city  poor.  It  was  a  union  society;  so  also  were  the  temperance  workers, 
a  union  of  earnest  women,  therefore  the  Friendly  Inn  was  called  "The 
Union."  The  first  three  years  Mrs.  Tomlinson  was  Secretary  of  the 
Dorcas  Society.  She  was  then  elected  President,  which  position  she  held 
until  her  removal  from  Akron,  three  years  longer.  Before  she  left  Akron  for 
their  home  in  Chicago — her  husband  having  assumed  the  State  Superin- 
intendency  of  Illinois — her  co-workers  gave  her  a  public  farewell  reception,  ex- 
pressing the  deepest  regret  at  losing  her  from  their  midst.  Perhaps  the  most 
prominent  trait  in  Mrs.  T.'s  character  is  her  hopefulness.  She  never  loses 
faith  in  the  final  triumph  of  good  over  evil,  and  consequently  labors  with  a 
courage  that  knows  no  defeat. 

At  the  same  time  she  worked  for  the  church,  being  President  of  the 
Ladies'  Social  Aid  Society  several  years,  and  always  holding  some  office  that 
called  out  her  energies. 

During  three  years  of  the  eight  that  she  lived  in  Akron,  she  was  on  the 
Examining  Committee  of  the  College,  and  every  term  found  her  at  the  Col- 
I  ige,  listening  to  the  recitations. 

With  all  Mrs.  Tomhnson's  duties  and  outside  cares,  she  yet  found  time 


276  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

to  write  some  things  for  publication.  At  all  public  meetings  in  the  temper- 
ance cause,  she  was  called  upon  to  furnish  a  paper  on  some  topic,  and  never 
failed  to  respond. 

Her  first  published  article  was  written  about  fifteen  years  ago. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tomlinson  have  always  been  very  hospitable,  and  conse- 
quently their  home  has  always  been  a  "Zion's  Hotel,"  as  one  of  their  friends 
christened  it.  Of  course,  they  have  often  been  imposed  upon  by  the  minis- 
terial tramp.  After  long  suffering  from  that  class  of  ministers,  who  enter  a 
home  only  to  revolutionize  all  its  domestic  arrangements,  requiring  a  sepa- 
rate bill-of-fare,  a  change  of  the  bed,  etc.,  Mrs.  Tomhnson  wrote  an  article 
for  the  "Christian  Leader,"  entitled  "Clerical  Bores."  It  was  written  in  a 
style  that  attracted  much  attention,  and  there  was  quite  a  fluttering  in  the 
ministerial  ranks.  Mrs.  T.  has  positive  convictions  on  every  subject  pertain- 
ing to  the  welfare  of  humanity;  especially  is  she  deeply  interested  in  the  ad- 
vancement of  her  own  sex.  She  claims  for  them  eqrual  rights,  educationally, 
politically  and  socially.  Aside  from  the  subject  of  temperance,  her  pen  has 
been  used  in  the  interests  of  women.  An  article  written  for  the  "Woman's 
Journal,"  of  Boston,  and  largely  copied  into  other  papers,  was  entitled 
"Natural  Protectors."  She  does  not  attempt  sermons  or  essays,  but  writes 
in  an  off-hand,  dashing  style,  seeking  to  show  the  absurdity  of  a  thing  by 
good-natured  sarcasm  and  ridicule.  We  quote  from  the  article  mentioned  as 
an  illustration  of  her  style : 

"It  has  been  said  from  time  immemorial  that  man  is  woman's  natural 
protector.  Let  us  investigate  this  subject,  and  discover  the  facts  in  the 
case.  We  will  go  back  to  first  principles  and  see  how  it  was  with  the  first 
man  and  first  woman.  When  Adam  and  Eve  both  sinned,  and  the  Lord 
called  them  to  account,  did  this  champion  of  woman,  this  'natural  pro- 
tector,' come  boldly  forward,  acknowledge  his  transgression,  and  shield  the 
'weaker  vessel'?'  What  says  the  record?  'And  the  Lord  God  called  unto 
Adam,  and  said  unto  him:  'Where  art  thou?'  And  he  said:  'I  heard  thy 
voice  in  the  garden  and  was  afraid.'  Brave  spirit!  And  the  Lord  said:  'Hast 
thou  eaten  of  the  tree  whereof  I  commanded  thou  shouldst  not  eat?'  And  the 
man  said:  'The  woman  whom  thou  gavest  to  be  with  mo,  she  gave  me  of  the 
tree,  and  I  did  eat.'     A  manly  reply.      Lovely  protection,  indeed!     And  tin  i 


EMELINE    C.    TOMLINSON.  277 

precedent,  thus  early  established,  has  been  faithfully  followed  by  the  sons  of 
Adam,  toward  the  daughters  of  Eve,  ever  since." 

In  a  paper,  called  "Tracts  and  their  Distribution,"  read  before  the  Ohio 
State  Convention  of  Universalists,  she  thus  discourses : 

"The  subject  of  tracts  has  not  been  an  attractive  one.  The  methods  of 
their  distribution  in  former  times  tended  to  disgust  many,  who  might  other- 
wise have  been  benefited.  Colporteurs,  with  a  funereal  air,  and  tall,  gaunt 
females,  with  a  chief-mourner  expression,  armed  with  tracts,  on  such  sub- 
jects as  'An  Angry  God,'  'An  Endless  Hell,'  and  'The  Sinner's  Doom,' 
would  enter  our  homes  and  after  thrusting  them  in  our  faces,  offer  to  pray 
with  us.  If  they  had  sung  at  the  close,  'My  thoughts  on  awful  subjects 
roll,  damnation  and  the  dead,'  or  'Hark  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound,'  it 
would  have  been  in  perfect  harmony.  But  the  world  moves,  and  the  Amer- 
ican Tract  Society  with  it."  After  this  playful  introduction  followed  an  ex- 
haustive treatise  on  the  subject,  and  closing  with  this  earnest  plea: 

"Let  us  then    send   these  little  missionaries  through  the  length  and 
breadth  of  our  land.    Let  us  sow  broadcast  this  precious  seed.     The  birds  of 
the  air  mil  cany  it,  the  winds  of  heaven  waft  it.      We  may  not  know  where 
it  will  lodge,  or  measure  the  harvest  of  sheaves,  but  let  us 
'Learn  to  labor  ami  to  wait.'" 

But  with  all  Mrs.  Tomlinson's  outside  cares,  she  has  never  neglected  her 
home.  That  has  ever  been  her  first  thought.  "I  do  not  claim  any  brilliant 
gifts,  any  remarkable  talents,"  we  once  heard  her  exclaim,  "but  I  do  think  I 
have  a  genius  for  making  a  home."  In  proof  of  this  the  home  was  always 
made  so  pleasant  that  her  husband  and  sons  have  never  been  tempted  to 
leave  it  for  other  attractions,  but  have  ever  found  it  to  be  "Sweet,  sweet 
home." 

Dr.  Hanson  who  has  had  a  close  acquaintance  with  the  family,  says: 

"The  home  which  this  good  woman  always  made  so  attractive,  not 
only  to  her  family,  but  to  all  sojourners,  has  been  blessed  by  two  sons,  young 
men  of  promise,  both  of  whom  were  graduated  at  Buchtel  College,  Akron, 
Ohio,  in  1880,  and  a  sweet  daughter,  Mary,  but  alas,  it  was  suddenly  darkened 
while  this  little  sketch  was  being  written,  by  the  death  of  him  to  whom  it  was 
always  an  ante-room  of  Heaven.     Rev.  De  Witt  Clinton  Tomlinson  was  one 


278  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

of  the  most  genial  of  men,  and  one  of  the  most  consecrated  of  ministers.  He 
was  engaged  as  Superintendent  of  Churches  in  Illinois,  and  had  performed 
an  important  service  at  a  great  grove  meeting  in  Wedron,  111.,  Sunday, 
July  24,  1881,  when  he  was  suddenly  attacked  by  congestion  of  the  liver,  and 
died  on  Wednesday  following,  aged  57  years.  Mrs.  Tornhnson  was  absent  in 
Colorado,  seeking  relief  from  a  severe  pulmonary  attack.  His  remains  now 
repose  in  Hudson,  Mich.  He  was  one  of  the  most  excellent  of  men,  and  had 
wrought  a  great  and  good  work  for  his  church,  for  humanity,  and  for  God. 
While  all  were  fearing  declining  health  for  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  the 
strong  man,  the  picture  of  manly  vigor  and  health,  was  taken  from  the  chil- 
dren, who  loved,  and  the  wife,  who  idolized  him.  But  the  bereaved  widow 
does  not  mourn  as  those  who  have  no  hope.  She  exemplifies  her  precious 
faith  by  Christian  resignation ;  and  the  spirit  she  exhibits,  and  that  sustains 
her,  is  embodied  in  the  poet's  lines: 

"With  patient  heart  thy  course  of  duty  run. 

God  nothing  does,  nor  suffers  to  be  done, 
But  thou  \vouldst  do  thyself,  if  thou  eouldst  see 

The  end  of  all  he  does  as  well  as  he." 


ELIZABETH   OAKES    SMITH 

Is  a  descendant  of  Dr.  Uriah  Oakes,  one  of  the  early  Presidents  of  Har- 
vard College,  and  of  Thomas  Prince,  a  direct  descendant  of  John  Prince,  who 
was  ordained  colleague  of  Rev.  Dr.  Joseph  Sewell,  of  the  Old  South  Church, 
Boston,  and  continued  in  that  church  for  forty  years.  David  Prince  (Eliza- 
beth's father)  married  Sophia  Blanchard,  whose  ancestors  can  be  traced  to 
the  Huguenot  exiles  from  France.  Elizabeth  was  born  in  1806,  and  named 
for  her  grandmother  Oakes. 

From  her  mother  Elizabeth  seemed  to  inherit  a  dash  of  French  courtesy, 
and  when  I  heard  her  lecture  thirty  years  ago,  from  her  graceful,  dignified 
and  refined  manner,  it  would  be  very  easy  (if  such  honor  had  ever  been  con- 


ELIZABETH    OAKES    SMITH.  279 

f erred  upon  woman)  to  believe  that  she  had  kneeling  received  a  blow  from 
the  sword  of  the  "honor-giving  hand  of  Cceur-de-Leon." 

Elizabeth  Oakes  Prince  was  married  in  1823,  to  Seba  Smith,  the  well- 
known  author,  journalist,  poet,  humorist,  and  distinguished  mathematician, 
and  author  of  "Jack  Downing's  Letters,"  whom  she  aided  in  his  journal- 
istic enterprises. 

In  1889,  in  an  attempt  to  speculate  in  land,  Mr.  Smith  risked  and  lost 
all  his  property.  Soon  after  the  family  removed  to  New  York.  The  loss  of 
the  property  did  not  influence  Mrs.  Smith's  friends  to  turn  the  cold  shoulder. 
She  was  admired  for  her  talents,  charming  personal  attractions,  and  the 
bravery  she  exhibited  after  her  husband's  misfortunes.  She  assumed  the 
burthen  of  the  day,  and  was  happy.  Henry  Wadsworth  Longfellow  and  Pitt 
Fessenden,  with  their  families,  were  among  her  warmest  friends,  attracted 
by  her  wealth  of  mind  and  soul;  and  they  enjoyed  her  and  her  husband  no 
less  after  than  before  the  sordid  dollars  took  their  flight.  That  child  of  gen- 
ius, John  Neal,  who  was  the  first,  even  before  Lucretia  Mott,  to  advocate  in 
public  woman  suffrage,  fully  sympathized  with  Mrs.  Smith,  and  she 
received  his  cordial  endorsement  to  earn  her  bread  by  speaking  the  truths 
which  to  her  seemed  divine.  And  she  writes  me  that  she  was  born  with  "a 
sense  of  the  equality  of  the  sexes,"  and  had  a  desire  to  present  her  arguments 
whether  remuneration  came  or  not.  She  was  the  first  woman  admitted  into 
the  lyceum  as  a  popular  lecturer.  She  spoke  on  "Woman's  Eights"  and 
other  topics  until  the  civil  war  broke  up  the  lyceums  of  the  country.  She 
always  delighted  her  audiences,  whatever  the  subject,  with  the  fine  fancies 
she  wove  into  her  lectures. 

A  sketch  of  Mrs.  Smith's  life,  with  an  accompanying  portrait,  was  writ- 
ten more  than  twenty  years  ago  by  George  Ripley.  He  says,  "Her  head  is 
large,  almost  massive,  and  fully  developed  in  each  of  the  cardinal  regions, 
especially  developed  in  Ideality,  Causality,  Mirthfulness,  Conscientiousness 
and  Benevolence.  No  phrenologist  woidd  hesitate  to  ascribe  to  her  an  un- 
usual share  of  justice  and  philanthropy,  as  actuating  and  controlling  motives 
of  action.     Hence  the  reformatory  vein  which  runs  through  her  writings. 

"Mrs.  Smith  has  a  distinguished  personal  appearance.  She  is  somewhat 
above  the  common  stature,  of  full  symmetrical  proportions,  but  with  no  lack 


280  OUB   WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

of  feminine  delicacy  and  grace;  with  dark  'presaging  eyes,'  kindled  with  the 
latent  fire  of  contemplation  and  rapt  musings ;  rich  brown  hair,  whose  mas- 
sive folds  give  softness  to  her  classicaUy  chiseled  features;  and  a  general 
expression  of  countenance  which  combines  intellectual  energy  with  tender 
feeling.  As  a  specimen  of  womanly  beauty  in  the  maturity  of  its  charms, 
she  is  a  favorite  subject  with  artists,  who  have  in  vain  attempted  to  copy 
with  the  pencil  the  living  expression  which  gives  character  to  her  features. 
As  a  lecturer  she  owes  much  to  the  grace  and  dignity  of  her  manner,  as  well 
as  to  the  justness  and  importance  of  her  thoughts.  She  speaks  from  written 
notes,  though  with  the  freedom  and  facility  of  extemporaneous  discourse. 
Her  style  is  carefully  elaborated,  abounding  with  piquant  historical  illustra- 
tions, and  embellished  with  the  appropriate  ornaments  that  are  naturally 
suggested  to  a  poetical  mind.  Without  being  an  orator  in  the  usual  sense  of 
the  term  as  implying  the  command  of  artificial  rhetoric,  her  elocution  is  grace- 
ful and  impressive,  her  bearing  is  singularly  self-possessed,  the  few  gestures 
which  she  employs  are  always  significant,  her  intonations  are  informed  by 
thought  and  glow  with  electric  feeling,  showing  that  woman's  lips  are  the  fit 
medium  for  the  highest  ideas,  and  that  'truths  divine  come  mended  from  her 
tongue.'  In  her  lectures,  as  in  her  writings,  she  has  ever  displayed  the 
inspiration  of  the  loftiest  sentiments;  no  truckling  to  vulgar  prejudices  has 
vitiated  the  purity  of  her  eloquence ;  always  loyal  to  humanity,  to  faith  in 
progress,  and  to  the  hope  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven  on  earth,  she  has  pleaded 
for  divine  ideas  in  a  womanly  spirit,  sustained  by  an  unfaltering  trust  in  the 
natural  trinity  of  Goodness,  Beauty  and  Truth." 

Mrs.  Smith  wrote  and  published  little  poems  and  stories  when  she  was 
six  years  old.  When  I  wrote  her  about  it  she  replied,  "I  was  no  more  pre- 
cocious than  my  playmates,  only  more  observing,  and  more  pestering  with 
my  questions.  When  quite  a  babe  I  wanted  to  know  the  whys  and  where- 
fores of  everything."  And  she  referred  me  to  her  autobiography  in  the 
"Phrenological  Journal." 

She  received  her  baptism  of  Universalism  from  her  grandfather  Blanch- 
ard,  who  was  an  intelligent  believer  and  a  conscientious  advocate  of  it  in  the 
days  of  its  odium.  The  following  shows  what  an  unwise  doctrine  the  old- 
fashioned  theology  was. 


ELIZABETH    OAKES    SMITH.  281 

"I  learned  very  early  to  doubt  the  opinions  of  others.  The  old  Pilgrim 
theology,  when  I  was  no  more  than  half  a  dozen  years,  gave  me  a  sense  of 
horror.  That  little  children  should  be  such  terrible  creatures — 'in  hell  only 
a  span  long' — born  with  nothing  good  in  them,  I  stoutly  denied,  declaring 
that  '/  was  (/<»>,/,  and  always  was,  and  always  meant  to  be,'  at  which  people 
laughed,  of  course,  or  warned  my  mother  that  I  needed  looking  after.  Oth- 
ers exclaimed,  'Oh,  you  strange  child!  don't  talk  in  this  way;  don't  bother 
your  brains  about  what  is  beyond  you.'  My  mother  would  tell  me  that  it  was 
an  improper  way  to  talk,  and  bade  me  be  silent.  In  these  dilemmas  I  used 
to  go  to  the  Bible — a  child  of  six  years  'searching  the  Scriptures' — and 
remember,  as  if  but  yesterday,  the  light  and  comfort  I  found  when  I  first 
was  arrested  by  the  passage,  'If  any  man  lack  wisdom,  let  him  ask  of  God, 
who  giveth  abundantly,  and  upbraideth  not.' 

"What  a  comfort  was  in  these  words,  'upbraideth  not,' to  a  little  child  so 
often  repulsed !  I  took  heart  at  once.  I  carried  up  all  my  ignorances  and 
impediments  and  imbecilities  to  the  Great  Audit,  and  found  help  and  com- 
fort, and  what  was  more,  patience  to  wait;  but  still  I  suffered  a  great  deal 
by  this  deferred  knowledge,  and  sometimes  would  say,  'I  don't  think  it  right 
to  keep  little  girls  ignorant  when  they  want  to  know  so  much.'  " 

Asking  questions  was  one  of  the  unpardonable  sins  of  her  childhood, 
whether  they  were  answered  or  not.  She  knew  every  flower  and  tree  within 
miles  of  her  home,  and  could  tell  the  shape  of  the  leaves  and  the  varying 
tints  of  the  petals.  From  babyhood  she  took  an  interest  and  delight  in  all 
of  God's  works.  Her  "Autobiography"  so  perfectly  depicts  the  thoughts, 
feelings  and  aspirations  of  children  in  general,  and  will  so  refresh  the  mem- 
ories of  those  whose  heads  are  silvered  with  age — as  few  writers  are  able  to 
do — that  it  is  worthy  of  preservation,  and  only  lack  of  space  prevents  me  from 
transferring  it  to  these  pages. 

******** 

"As  I  pen  these  little  incidents  they  seem  puerile  subjects  for  an  article, 

and  yet  I  think  it  well  to  preserve  them.     Could  we  have  the  record  of  a  few 

minds  from  early  childhood,  written  honestly  by  persons  of  tenacious  memory 

like  mine — for  I  recall  after  this  lapse  of  time,  not  only  events,  but  the  exact 

words,  looks,  and  attitudes  of  those  connected  therewith,  the  locality,  period 
13 


282  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

of  the  year,  kind  of  weather,  also — I  am  sure  some  psychological  intimations 
might  be  obtained  in  aid  of  education.  Grown  people  need  the  help  of  chil- 
dren. 

"Children  are  far  more  penetrating  than  is  generally  thought,  and  de- 
tect a  false  ingredient  as  by  natural  instinct.  They  are  made  false  in  the 
nursery,  and  go  out  into  the  world  with  conventional  rather  than  moral  ideas. 
I  do  not  believe  in  perpetual  teaching,  coercion  and  reprimand ;  much  may 
be  left  to  spontaneous  insight. 

"My  grandfather  Prince  never  rebuffed  me  in  my  search  after  ideas,  but 
answered  me  with  conscientious  tenderness.  I  got  to  thinking  he  knew 
everything.  Judge,  then,  of  my  surprise  when  he  once  honestly  said,  'I  do 
not  know.'  I  had  been  gathering  flowers  in  the  corn-field,  and  came  home 
with  my  hands  filled  with  the  dehcate  silk  of  the  Indian  corn.  Grandfather 
was  reading,  but  as  I  placed  myself  on  his  knee  he  stroked  my  head  tenderly. 
At  length,  observing  what  I  held  in  my  hand,  he  exclaimed,  'Ah,  child,  do 
you  know  what  you  have  done?  There  will  be  no  corn  where  you  have 
pulled  out  the  silk.' 

"  'Why  grandpa;  why  will  there  be  no  corn?' 

"  'I  can  not  give  the  reason,  child ;  I  only  know  the  fact  from  observation.' 

"It  must  be  remembered  that  botany  and  geology  were  then  in  their  in- 
fancy. 

"Puritan  children  were  rigidly  held  to  a  routine  of  duty  varying  little 
from  day  to  day.  First,  every  child  was  out  of  bed  and  dressed  by  rise  of 
sun,  at  all  seasons.  Ablutions  many  and  often  were  in  order,  for  my  mother 
believed  in  the  bath,  and  the  shower-bath  at  that,  to  be  used  at  least  once 
in  the  week.  At  my  grandmother's  this  thrilling  and  breath-taking  operation 
was  considered  a  cruelty,  and  remonstrated  against  in  my  case,  I  being 
thought  delicate.  Every  child  was  carefully  inspected  by  the  mother's  eye, 
to  be  sure  tbat  no  rents  were  to  be  found,  and  no  strings  or  buttons  missing. 
We  all  knelt  in  the  nursery  at  prayers — the  Lord's  Prayer.  It  was  a  pretty 
sight,  a  family  of  six  to  eight  children  at  the  breakfast  table,  each  one  bright 
mid  white  and  -nice  to  the  last  degree. 

"We  appeared  after  breakfast  before  my  mother,  and  took  what  was 


ELIZABETH    OAKES    SMITH.  288 

called  our  stint,  which  was  an  amount  of  knitting  or  sewing  to  be  done  dur- 
ing the  day,  whether  we  went  to  school  or  not.  This  stint  was  exacted  from 
the  time  I  was  four  years  old  till  I  was  in  my  teens,  and  as  there  were  three 
and  four  girls  in  the  family,  a  considerable  amount  of  linen  was  made  up  by 
us.  Later  in  life  I  learned  that  this  unvarying  toil  was  bad  for  me,  as  I  be- 
came afflicted  with  a  'busy  devil,'  that  woidd  not  let  me  rest.  I  could  not 
be  idle  even  when  I  would.  I  must  have  work,  reading,  writing,  when  others 
were  at  play.  In  this  way  I  have  done  much  for  the  poor  which  otherwise  I 
might  not  have  found  time  for.  I  have  passed  hardly  an  idle  hour  in  my 
whole  life,  and  have  rarely  been  disabled,  having  never  had  any  organic 
'disease. 


"I  used  to  gravely  discuss  like  a  little  casuist  the  proportions  of  evil-doing, 
and  how  some  might  do  one  way  and  some  another,  and  yet  God  would  love 
them  both.  He  would  not  expect  children  to  do  just  like  me,  for  somehow  I 
could  not  stop  thinking  about  things,  and  wickedness  was  worse  in  me  than 
in  them.  Other  children  might  do  as  my  sister  did,  who  was  quite  perfect, 
but  I  was  a  little  different,  and  perhaps  an  idiot  about  some  things. 

"There  was  one  in  the  neighborhood  witli  blear  eyes  and  slovenly 
mouth,  who  was  a  misery  to  me.  I  never  for  a  moment  felt  that  I  had  any- 
thing akin  to  her ;  but  as  I  was  a  little  different  from  my  sister  and  others,  I 
could  not  define  wherein  the  mental  difference  consisted,  and  once  quite 
shocked  my  mother  by  asking  'if  I  had  not  had  good  care  I  might  not  have 
been  hke  her?' 

"It  will  thus  be  seen  that  children  need  a  great  deal  of  help  in  solving 
their  mental  problems.  To  incur  maternity  is  to  incur  the  responsibility  of 
not  only  training,  but  of  comforting  the  misgivings  of  the  child.  They  are 
called  dull  or  irritable  when  the  only  thing  required  is  that  they  should  be 
revealed  to  themselves.  Their  heart  questionings,  their  perilous  misgivings 
are  as  real  to  them  as  to  children  of  a  larger  growth.  Mothers  should  merge 
all  considerations  into  the  interests  of  the  household,  most  especially  to  the 
vital  claims  of  the  child. 


284  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"I  have  an  old  'Reward  of  Merit,'  in  the  shape  of  a  little  volume  pre- 
sented to  me  at  school  by  my  teacher.  It  bears  the  date  of  June,  and  I 
would  not  be  six  years  old  till  the  next  August.  This  meager  child's  book, 
'The  History  of  the  Holy  Jesus,'  with  its  paper,  yellowed  by  time,  its  poor, 
blurred  type,  and  crabbed  illustrations  (what  a  contrast  to  a  modern  child's 
book!)  brings  back  the  whole  sad  period  of  which  I  am  about  to  speak,  all 
my  unchildish  grief,  and  unconscious  precocity.  I  see  the  face  of  my  kind 
teacher,  Mr.  Butler,  with  his  stiff  hair  erect  from  his  forehead,  his  pale  face 
and  pale  blue  eyes.  I  see  the  scholars  with  their  eyes  fixed  upon  me  as  I 
stood  beside  him  and  read  in  Scott's  Lessons,  and  spelt  from  Morse's  Dic- 
tionary, a  child  less  than  six  years  ranking  with  those  three  times  my  age.  I  see 
children  twice  my  age,  to  my  infinite  pity  and  disgust,  blundering  through 
Webster's  spelling  book,  and  reading  b-a-k-e-r.  I  am  sure  I  felt  no  conceit 
nor  vanity  at  my  position,  for  in  my  simple  piety  I  thanked  God  for  helping 
me  to  learn,  and  giving  me  a  love  for  it.  I  recall  my  little  fervent  prayers 
and  thanksgivings,  and  my  efforts  to  inspire  my  mates  with  a  like  spirit. 
Ah !  children  are  naturally  so  religious  and  so  desirous  to  be  helpful ! " 

She  thus  describes  her  birthplace : 

"In  a  little  cottage,  set  like  a  pearl  in  emerald,  lived  a  young  man  and 
woman  who  were  truly  husband  and  wife.  The  home  had  four  rooms  on  the 
ground  floor — a  garden  in  front — the  gable  of  the  house  fronting  the  county 
road.  In  the  garden  grew  lilies  and  roses;  tall  hollyhocks,  london-pride, 
mallows,  and  love-lies-bleeding,  with  a  wilderness  of  pansies  known  as  the 
'lady's  delight.'  On  two  sides  of  the  cottage  was  a  grove  of  aromatic  pines, 
somewhat  somber,  perhaps,  and  full  of  suppressed  whisperings,  but  loudly 
resonant  when  the  elements  were  high.  Here  were  found  the  trailing  arbu- 
tus, which  the  Pilgrim  dames  tenderly  named  the  Mayflower,  and  the  berries 
of  the  wintergreen,  like  rubies,  and  Indian  pipe,  like  a  pearl  blossom. 

"Here  three  daughters  were  born  to  the  young  pair,  of  which  I  was  the 
second.  When  I  was  nearly  forty  years  old,  I  took  occasion  to  visit  this 
pretty  cottage  in  company  with  my  lovely  son,  Sidney.  As  a  coincidence  T 
here  found  a  bright  young  mother  living  quite  alone,  and  three  little  girls,  as 
in  my  mother's  day.  The  mother  was  pleased  with  the  notice  I  took  of  her 
children,  and  remarked: 


ELIZABETH    OAKES    SMITH.  285 

"  'My  house  has  an  interest  of  itself;  you  must  know  that  a  poet  was 
bom  here  in  this  very  room.' 

"I  was  pleased  at  this  and  gave  her  my  card,  at  which  she  grasped  my 
hand  warmly,  saying: 

"  'I  must  know  just  how  you  look,'  and  she  studied  my  face  with  pleas- 
ant scrutiny.' 

"In  this  oasis  of  verdure  and  heavenly  peace  I  was  born." 

Mrs.  Smith  wrote  under  a  nom  deplume  until  after  her  husband's  mis- 
fortunes, then  she  introduced  herself  to  the  reading  world  as  Elizabeth  Oakes 
Smith,  that  she  might  gain  support  for  her  family.  Their  fortune  took  its 
flight  in  1839,  and  in  1813  she  wrote  the  "Sinless  Child,"  which  has,  without 
doubt,  few  superiors  in  felicity  of  expression  in  any  author's  productions. 
Says  George  Ripley,  the  great  critic,  in  the  "Phrenological  Journal,"  "It  has 
won  the  admiration  even  of  fastidious  critics.  It  is  a  production  of  uncom- 
mon tenderness  and  grace,  illustrating  the  most  elevated  and  winning  truits 
of  humanity,  by  images  of  surpassing  loveliness."  The  "Journal"  further 
expresses  itself  concerning  Mrs.  Smith's  writings:  "'The  Salamander;  -or 
The  Laus  Angel,'  a  Christmas  legend,  replete  with  weird  and  startling  con- 
ceptions, clothing  the  profoundest  truth  in  the  robes  of  a  subtle  allegory,  and 
redeeming  the  supernatural  strangeness  of  its  plot  by  a  style  of  delicious 
sweetness  and  spirit;  'Shadow-Land,'  a  discussion  of  the  mystic  element  in 
human  nature;  'Woman  and  Her  Needs'  (published  in  1851),  a  wise  and  dis- 
criminating statement  of  the  demands  of  women  on  society;  and  'Dress 
and  Beauty,'  an  examination  of  the  dictates  of  natural  taste  in  regard 
to  female  costume,  in  which  full  justice  is  done  both  to  the  aesthetic  and 
practical  elements  of  the  subject." 

Mrs.  Smith  published  "The  Western  Captive"  in  1850;  "Bertha  and 
Lily,"  into  which  she  put  many  of  her  own  experiences,  in  1854;  "News 
Boy,"  1855;  "The  Two  Wives,"  1870;  "Kitty  Howard's  Journal"  in  1871. 
"The  Roman  Tribute,"  in  five  acts,  and  "Jacob  Leister"  are  tragedies  of  in- 
terest. One  can  easily  see  by  a  few  of  the  many  of  Mrs.  Smith's  writings 
that  she  has  been  no  idler,  and  at  the  ripe  old  age  of  seventy-five  years  her 
pen  continues  to  trace  out  her  imaginings,  with  almost,  if  not  quite,  as  much 
strength  and  beauty  as  thirty  years  ago. 


286  OUR    VrOMAN    WORKERS. 

Mrs.  Smith,  as  her  years  increase,  becomes  more  and  more  sure  of  the 
fullness  of  God's  universal  love;  and  through  her  life,  so  full  of  disap- 
pointments and  sorrows,  has  possessed  her  soul  in  sweetness  through  our  own 
blessed  faith,  for  she  is  assured  by  it  that  "griefs  die,"  or  "slumber  quietly  in 
the  chamber  of  peace." 

She  supplied  the  pulpit  as  preacher  for  a  year,  in  Canastota,  N.  Y.,  and 
has  appeared  in  other  pulpits  with  great  acceptability,  all  over  the  country. 
She  has  always  been  a  cheerful,  industrious  woman,  a  devoted  mother,  a  no- 
ble housewife,  having  neglected  no  home  duty  for  public  efforts.  She  has 
been  the  mother  of  six  boys,  four  of  whom  have  crossed  over  into  the  great 
unseen. 

Mrs.  Smith,  in  these  days  of  old  age,  (I  must  call  her  old,  for  seventy- 
six  years  fraught  with  joys  and  sorrows,  disappointments  and  hopes,  have 
come  and  gone  for  her;  but  there  are  some  people  it  is  almost  out  of  the 
question  to  imagine  as  being  beyond  the  years  of  youth,  and  she  is  one  of 
those),  says,  "You  must  excuse  this  miserable  scrawl,  for  just  now  I  am  suf- 
fering the  ignoble  martyrdom  of  poverty.  No  disgrace,  it  is  said,  but  most 
uncomfortable.  I  am  just  now  in  the  midst  of  all  kinds  of  work  unaBsthetic, 
and  unless  the  sentiment  is  in  the  soul  of  me,  I  am  out  of  the  pale  of  it.  I 
think  you  would  not  dislike  all  this,  borne  not  so  much  enduringly,  as  in  the 
light  of  that  'Stern  daughter  of  the  voice  of  God,'  as  Wordsworth  so  grandly 
calls  Duty.  We  are  apt  to  attach  too  much  importance  to  elegant  surround- 
ings. I  do  not  feel  that  poverty  touches  me,  only  it  restricts  me.  Material 
deficiencies  can  be  cured  or  endured,  but  there  is  no  help  for  poverty  of  soul." 

The  foUowing  beautiful  poem  gives  evidence  of  her  tenderness  of  heart 
and  strength  of  faith. 

LIMITATION. 

Alone  wo  stand   to  solve  the  doubt, 
Alone  to  work  salvation  ou1  . 
Casting  our  helpless  hands  about 

For  human  help,  for  human  cheer, 
Or  only  for  a  human  tear, 
Forgetting  God    is   always   near. 

The  poet,  in  his  grandest  flight. 

Sees  ranged  beyond  him  height  o'er  height, 

Dreams  thai  elude   his  utmosl   might. 


HANNAH    R.    UKOSH.  287 

And  music  borne  by  echo  back, 

Pines  "ii  a  solitary  track. 

Till  faint  hearts  cry  alas  !   alack 

Ami  beauty  born  of  flnesl  art. 
Slips   from  the  limner's  hand  apart, 
And  leaves  him  aching  at  the  heart. 

The  fairesl   face  hath  never  brought 

Its    fairest    look.     The    deepest    thought 

Is  never  into  language   wrought. 

The  quaint,  old  litanies  that   fell 

From  ancient  seers,  great   hearts  impel 

To  nobler   deeds   than    he-roes  tell. 

We  live,  we  breathe,  all  unexprest ; 
Our  holiest,  noblest  in  the  hreast 
Lies  struggling  in   a  wild  unrest. 

Our  onward  lights  eternal   shine  ; 
Unconquered   by  unmanly   pine. 
Our  royal  amaranths  we  twine. 

If,  hungering  with  a  latent  sense, 

We   know   not.   ask   not,   how  or  whence, 

We  take  our  consecration  thence. 

The  wine   press   must    alone   be  trod, 

The  burning  ploughshare  pressed  unshod, 

There  is  no  rock  of  help,  but  God. 


HANNAH    E.    GEOSH. 

The  maiden  name  of  this  Christian  woman  was  Kinehart.  She  was 
horn  in  Coventry,  Chester  Co.,  Pa.,  April  20,  1800,  where  she  lived  till  the 
death  of  her  parents,  after  which  she  resided  with  an  older  sister  in  Ma- 
rietta, Pa.  Soon  after  changing  homes,  she  commenced  school-teaching,  for 
which  she  was  especially  fitted  and  amply  prepared,  her  tender,  gentle,  yet 
dignified  manner  winning  the  respect  and  love  of  the  children  (the  larger  as 
well  as  the  smaller  ones).     In  182-4,  she  was  united  in  marriage  to  our  re- 


288  OUR     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

vered  and  saintly  brother,  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosk.  '  They  did  not  remove  from 
Marietta  until  1830,  when  she  accompanied  her  husband  to  Utica,  N.  Y.,  where 
for  the  next  fourteen  years  he  published,  and  a  part  of  the  time  edited,  the 
"Evangelical  Magazine  and  Gospel  Advocate,"  at  this  time,  however,  edited 
by  Rev.  Dolphus  Skinner.  Their  trip  from  Marietta  to  Utica  occupied  two 
weeks,  and  was  made  in  a  two-horse  wagon,  over  muddy  roads.  A  snow-storm 
overtaking  them,  we  must  presume  that  the  last  part  of  the  drive  was  through 
mud  and  snow.  The  only  sunshine  which  shone  forth  to  cheer  them  upon 
this  tedious  trip,  was  what  each  made  for  the  other  and  for  the  three  little 
ones  which  had  their  united  attention. 

The  thought  frequently  comes  to  me,  are  we  faithful  in  teaching  our 
children  the  privations,  the  hardships  and  consecration  of  our  early  minis- 
ters (and  their  wives),  who,  with  holy  faith,  nothing  doubting  God's  great 
goodness,  continued  without  fainting  by  the  way,  to  clear  the  mists  from  the 
beclouded  Scriptures,  that  we  and  they  to-day  might  possess  our  faith  in  love 
and  trust,  and  walk  this  earth  with  the  assurance  that  a  Divine  Being  governs? 

It  will  be  remembered  that  in  the  days  we  are  writing  about,  it  was  the 
custom  for  men  of  business  to  board  their  workmen,  and  as  a  matter  of 
course,  this  sweet  woman  opened  the  doors  of  her  house  to  her  husband's 
printers,  and  her  house  was  always  a  home  to  them,  as  to  all  who  came  with- 
in its  walls.  All  of  the  clergy  and  other  friends  who  have  been  entertained 
by  her  in  days  a-gone,  say  that  her  hospitality  was  unbounded.  Rev.  Caro- 
line A.  Soide,  who  spent  seven  months  of  her  young,  married  life  in  the 
home  of  Mrs.  Grosh,  says:  "I  could  speak  in  very  tender  words,  for  she  was 
a  rare  woman,  a  devoted  wife,  a  faithful  mother,  a  consecrated  friend.  I 
could  not  do  her  goodness  justice,  were  I  to  try."  Strangers  and  friends  en- 
joyed the  comfort  of  her  attention.  We  can  reverse  the  Scripture  and  say 
that  all  friends  and  strangers  were  entertained  by  an  angel. 

Mrs.  Grosh  was  a  model  house-wife,  and  one  who  believed  that  the 
sublimest  offices  ever  fulfilled  by  woman  are  those  of  wife  to  a  noble  man,  and 
mother  of  his  children ;  it  was  a  religious  duty  to  her,  that  the  little  ones 
who  had  been  entrusted  to  her  care,  and  he  to  whom  she  had  pledged  herself 
to  honor  his  house,  should  have  the  first  warmth  of  her  heart,  and  strength 
of  her  hands,  and  these  two  sources  from  which  the  happiness  of  life  comes, 


HANNAH    R.    GROSH.  289 

seemed  inexhaustible  in  her.  She  was  ;ui  active  member  in  her  church, 
and  won  the  respect  of  all  those  who  worked  with  her  or  knew  her.  She  was 
a  sort  of  saintly  oracle,  whom  strangers,  as  well  as  friends,  sought  when  per- 
plexed, in  trouble  or  sorrow.  In  personal  appearance  she  was  small,  with 
wavy,  dark  brown  hair,  and  hazel  eyes  which  were  always  lighted  with  a 
pleasant  smile. 

Mrs.  Grosh  was  especially  active  during  the  Washingtonian  Temperance 
Reform,  in  organizing  the  wives  and  daughters  of  reformed  men  into  Martha 
Washington  societies,  and  in  the  various  charitable  operations  to  provide 
food,  fuel  and  clothing  for  the  needy  men  and  their  families,  until  they  could 
gather  means  to  help  themselves  and  each  other,  for  mutual  help  was  the 
great  aim  of  the  truly  benevolent  women  engaged  in  that  reform. 

After  I  had  my  sketch  nearly  completed,  I  wrote  Bro.  Grosh  asking  for 
further  information.     His  reply  follows: 

"I  do  not  think  I  can  add  more  to  your  account,  though  I  could  speak 
much  out  of  a  full  heart  to  her  praise  as  maid  and  wife,  as  mother,  neighbor, 
friend,  in  all  which  and  other  relations  of  hfe,  her  memory  is  blessed  by  all 
who  knew  her  well  and  truly,  and  most  of  all,  her  children  all  grew  up  and 
blessed  her  in  youth  and  unto  death.  Of  her,  as  of  her  successor,  I  can 
truly  say  what  I  have  generally  intimated  in  the  'dedication'  of  my  'Mentor 
in  the  Granges.'  Bro.  S.  K.  Smith  said  similarly  of  his  'Lucy' — an 
eulogy  applicable  to  most  ministers'  wives  I  have  known— 'All  I  have  become 
and  all  I  have  accomplished  in  my  ministry,  is  in  a  very  great  degree  due  to 
my  wife.  She  always  so  ordered  my  household  and  relieved  me  of  my  many 
business  cares,  as  to  give  me  the  requisite  ease  of  mind  and  leisure  for  my 
studies  and  labors;  and  so  sympathized  with  me  in  my  duties  and  endeavors  as 
to  stimulate  my  efforts,  lighten  my  burdens,  soothe  my  disappointments,  and 
make  my  trials  endurable.  My  home  was  always  a  refuge  and  a  place  of 
rest  for  me;  and  its  hospitalities  to  my  brethren  and  friends  were  always 
prepared  by  her  care,  and  dispensed  with  a  liberal  hand,  a  smiling  face,  and 
a  cheerfvd  welcome.' " 

The  dedication  alluded  to,  here  follows:  "To  my  wife  I  dedicate  this 
book.  Her  sympathy  inspired,  her  approval  encouraged,  and  her  counsels 
guided,  its  preparation;   while  her  management  of  our  domestic  and  business 


290  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

affairs  released  rne  from  many  cares,  and  afforded  the  needed  leisure  for  my* 
labors;  and  thus  through  her,  I  also  dedicate  it  to  the  many  thousands  of 
women,  whose  similar  inspirations,  encouragements,  counsels  and  sacrifices, 
aid  and  enable  their  husbands,  sons  and  brothers  to  plan  and  to  do  for  them- 
selves, their  families  and  mankind.  May  our  great  order  add  many  other 
thousands  to  the  numbers  of  these  earliest  educators  of  our  race  and  lifelong 
helpers  of  our  sex,  and  increase  their  opportunities,  and  strengthen  their  in- 
fluence in  every  good  way,  and  word  and  work." 

In  1844,  her  health,  which  had  been  delicate  for  some  years,  began  to 
fail,  and  the  watchful  eyes  of  her  husband  noted  the  change,  and  she  was 
taken  to  a  milder  climate  (Maryland),  under  the  influence  of  which  she  im- 
proved, and  the  following  year  accompanied  her  husband  to  Reading,  Pa., 
where  she  apparently  quite  regained  her  health.  In  the  Spring  of  1849,  a 
severe  cold  settled  upon  her  throat  and  lungs,  from  which  she  never  re- 
covered. On  Nov.  10,  1849,  she  reached  forward  to  the  realities  of  that 
world  in  which  at  last  we  shall  all  rejoice,  "no  wanderer  lost,  a  family  in 
heaven." 

Rev.  A.  C.  Thomas  delivered  a  very  tender  and  beautiful  address  upon 
the  text,  "Blessed  are  they  that  mourn,  for  they  shall  be  comforted."  We 
quote  a  few  extracts : 

"And  yet,  not  on  the  score  of  what  she  was,  but  on  the  knowledge  of 
what  God  is,  did  she  rely  for  that  blessed  home  on  high  which  we  trust  she 
has  attained.  And  it  was  this  reliance,  this  humble  faith,  that  wrought  in 
her  the  two-fold  benediction  of  an  exemplary  life  and  a  happy  heart. 

"Calmly  and  without  a  murmur  she  awaited  her  change,  and  though 
there  were  mingliugs  of  natural  desire,  as  connected  with  continuance  in  the 
earthly  groups  of  friendship  and  love,  they  were  sanctified  by  rapturous  visions 
of  reunion  where  'there  shall  be  no  more  death,  neither  sorrow  nor  crying, 
nor  any  more  pain.'  " 

"Connected  in  blood,  interest,  trial,  labor,  may  you  continue  steadfast 
in  the  principles  and  love  imparted  by  both  the  precept  and  example  of  the 
mother  who  bore  you,  and  who  sent  to  you  her  dying  blessing.  Cleave  to 
her  memory,  and  the  joy  of  prosperity  will  be  associated  with  the  happy 
recollections  of  home,  and  even  the  knell  of  her  departure  will  be  changed 


LYDIA     IIINMAN    CASE.  291 

to  musical  echoes  from  the  realm  of  her  incorruptible  dwelling." 

Her  children  were,  E.  Allen,  Hosea  B.,  Emma  M.,  married  to  John  G. 
Jones,  Utica,  N.  Y.,  M.  Letitia,  Malvina  h\,  and  Warren  iiinehart. 

1  had  heard  very  much  concerning  the  first  and  second  wife  of  Rev.  A. 
B.  Grosh,  and  wrote  him  accordingly,  but  he  with  his  accustomed  modesty 
for  himself  and  those  belonging  to  him,  hesitated.  But  the  beloved  present 
wife  in  a  quiet  way  known  only  to  herself,  sent  the  following,  and  I  feel 
sure  my  readers  will  not  fail  to  see  through  it  the  Christian  graces  of  the 
author.  It  was  the  first  response  I  received  in  reference  to  the  subject  of 
this  sketch,  but  it  seems  a  fitting  close.  Mrs.  Jones,  of  Utica,  N.  Y.,  from 
whom  I  quote  in  the  sketch  of   Mrs.  Gillette,  also  rendered  me  assistance. 

"You  some  time  since  wrote  my  husband  about  giving  my  name  a  place 
in  your  new  book.  Please  do  no  such  thing.  I  am  nothing  but  a  plain, 
every-day  woman,  who  has  never  done  anything  to  merit  such  distinction. 
Besides,  it  would  trouble  me  to  see  my  name  associated  with  women  so  dis- 
tinguished as  Mrs.  Soule,  Clara  Barton,  Helen  Gilson,  Mrs.  Thomas,  etc. 
No,  no,  the  contrast  would  be  too  great. 

"But  if  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  name  one  who  would,  I  think,  fill  a 
niche  in  your  group,  my  husband's  first  wife,  Mrs.  Hannah  Grosh.  She 
was  not  a  great  woman  as  the  world  counts  greatness,  but  she  was  so  thor- 
oughly good,  so  Christ-like  in  spirit,  that  I  feel  her  'name  should  not  perish 
from  the  earth.'  A  low-voiced,  gentle,  loving  woman  who  never  seemed  to 
think  of  herself,  but  only  of  what  she  could  do  to  lighten  the  burdens,  and 
contribute  to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  others.  Though  physically  frail, 
she  was  a  woman  of  wonderful  strength  of  character,  strong  to  endure,  to 
dare  and  to  do,  where  a  principle  was  involved." 


LYDIA    HINMAN    CASE. 

Mrs.  Case,  the  "Chicago  Tribune"  says,  is  of  medium  height,  well- 
proportioned,  and  graceful.  Her  abundant  jet  black  hair  is  worn  in  a  coif- 
fure of  braids,  showing  a  perfectly  shaped  as  well  as  perfectly  balanced  head. 


292  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Her  large,  lustrous,  brown  eyes  have  a  fund  of  mirth  and  pensiveness;  her 
mouth  is  attractive  either  in  its  dimpling  smiles,  or  its  repose  of  sadness. 
She  is  very  shy,  modest,  and  retiring.  In  response  to  my  letter  of  inquiries 
concerning  the  facts  of  her  life,  and  my  wish  to  enroll  her  with  the  crowd  of 
brain  workers  for  our  church,  she  replied,  "I  consider  it  a  great  compliment 
to  be  placed  among  your  'Workers,'  for  it  strikes  me  very  forcibly  that  I  am 
one  of  the  drones,  and  my  life  has  been  so  eventless  and  uninteresting, 
that  there  will  be  nothing  in  a  sketch  that  will  give  your  readers  patience  to 
peruse  it,  if  you  fill  out  the  dates." 

Lydia  was  born  in  Elba,  Dodge  Co.,  Wis.,  September,  1852.  The 
"Tribune"  speaks  of  a  sadness  which  pervades  her  expression  when  her  feat- 
ures are  in  repose,  but  when  we  learn  the  facts  of  her  youth,  that  from  her 
earliest  recollections  until  six  years  ago,  some  one,  oftener  two,  and  some- 
times three  of  her  family  were  sick  at  a  time,  we  shall  not  wonder  that  "Dim 
sadness  did  not  spare  her."  Whe"n  she  was  fifteen  years  old,  she  commenced 
attending  the  Liberal  Institute,  in  Jefferson,  Wis.,  and  continued  whenever 
her  health  would  permit,  until  it  closed,  wMen  she  went  to  Madison  Univer- 
sity, returning  again  to  Jefferson  when  it  was  re-opened.  On  account  of  ill- 
health  she  was  advised  by  her  physician  to  leave  school.  As  soon  as  she 
partly  recovered,  her  parents  sent  her  East  to  study  music,  but  she  had  been 
there  scarcely  six  months  when  she  was  summoned  home  to  attend  a  sick 
brother.  For  four  years  she  watched  and  attended  him,  except  when  she 
left  home  for  short  intervals  to  renew  her  strength,  and  for  four  years  her 
mind  lay  fallow,  for  she  says,  "I  had  no  time  or  inclination  to  write,  or  even 
think  of  it  during  my  poor  brother's  entire  illness.  The  past  six  years  I  have 
spent  with  my  books,  pen  and  piano,  except  when  rambling  for  health,  or 
too  ill  for  any  of  these  amusements. " 

Miss  Hinman  is  a  fine  pianist,  and  a  musical  composer.  Mr.  Emil  C. 
Gaebler,  of  Watertown,  Wis.,  a  composer,  says,  "Miss  Hinman  shows  orig- 
inality and  unmistakable  signs  of  fine  talent  as  a  composer  of  music."  She 
has  published  but  little  of  her  musical  composition.  She  says,  "I  began  my 
scribbling  at  a  veiy  youthful  age  for  the  amusement  of  an  invalid  sister,  who 
was  much  cleverer  than  I  at  rhyming,  and  left  me  so  far  behind  at  making 
up  stories,  that  I  gave  up  that  field  entirely  to  her."     The  Faculty  of  the  In- 


LYDIA    HINMAN    CASE.  298 

stitute  was  the  first  to  encourage  her  to  set  adrift  some  of  her  sweet  poems. 
Since  then  she  has  corresponded  for  numberless  papers  and  periodicals. 
While  rambling  for  health  among  the  balsamic  forests,  she  corresponded  for 
the  "Sunday  Telegraph,"  dating  her  articles,  "Among  the  Pines,"  and  a  fine 
critic  says  of  them,  "Her  sketches  show  her  to  be  a  writer  of  power.  Her 
descriptions  are  life-like,  and  have  the  clear  outline,  the  mellow  light  and  the 
fresh  beauty  of  the  Summer  woods.  We  know  of  no  writings  of  this  class 
in  books  or  magazines  that  are  superior  to  hers. " 

She  has  been  a  frequent  and  valuable  correspondent  to  The  Star  and 
Covenant,  and  the  following  selections  show  that  she  bids  fair  to  rank  hiffh 
among  "the  singers  of  the  liberal  faith." 


DAISY  CHAINS, 

Down  in  the  meadow,  half  asleep, 

Where  breezes  through  the  grasses  sweep, 

An  idle  youth  in  quiet  lay, 

While  at  his  side  a  blue-eyed  fay 

Sat  weaving  with  such  artful  care, 

A  dainty  chain  of  daisies  fair. 

His  eyes   were  closed  in  sweet  content 

Her  thoughts  alone  on  mischief  bent; 

She  wound  the  chain  about  his  head, 

And  arms,  and  form,  and  o'er  him  spread, 

'Till  he  seemed  but  a  daisy  bed. 

The  laughing  eyes  then  open   flew. 
And  peered  into  the  eyes  of  blue  : 
Up  rose  his  hands,  and  with  a  bound, 
The  chain  lay  broken  on  the  ground. 
The  blue   ryes   flashed  with  sudden  light, 
And  flinging  him  the  daisies  white. 
The  vengeance  in  her  eyes  he  read. 
As  haughtily  the  midget  said. 
"Young  man,  another  time  I'll  make 
A  stouter  chain  you  cannot  break." 

The  little  witch!    Could  it  be  true? 

How  well  she  spoke  her  dear  heart  knew ; 

For  sure  enough,  around  his  heart 


294  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Shu  wove  a  chain  he  could  not  part. 
And  if  this  very  day  you  pass 
Across  the  meadow's  waving  grass. 
You'll  see  the  children  of  the  twain, 
A-wearing   each  a  daisy-chain. 


AT    THE    GATE. 

There's  nothing  to  do  but  to  wait. 
Till  the  face  of  the  porter  I  see. 
Who  will  beckon  and  smile, 
And  will  solve  me  the  while 
Life's  wonderful  mystery. 

As  I  patiently  wait  , 

At  the  gate. 
Until  it  be  opened  to  me. 

I  lonely  and  wistfully  stand, 
I  am  tarnished  with  wrong  and  with  sin, 
I  am  soiled  with  the  dust 
Of  the  road,  yet  I  trust 
The  One  who's  watching  within, 
While  I  wearily  wait 
At  the  gate, 
Will  pity    and  bid  me  come  in. 

There  are  many  that  pass  through  the  gate. 
There  are  many  turn  sadly  away, 
And  the  dear  ones  that  leave 
Me  their  absence  to  grieve, 
I  miss  from  my  side  day  by  day, 
As  they  pass  through  the  gate 
And  I  wait 
My  turn  in  the  silent  array. 

Very  near  to  the   portals  I  seem, 
And  I  catch  a  clear  glimpse  of  the  blest 
As  the  door  widely  swings, 
As  if  opened  with  wings; 
Yet  well  do  I  know  it  is  best, 
That  I  patiently  wait 
At  the  gate. 
E'en  tho'  I  am  longing  to  rest. 

And  yet,  methinks,  harder  than  all 
Of  tin;  griefs  that  have  burdened  the  past 


ELIZABETH    DELANO    BKOWNE.  295 


All  life's  wearisome  toil. 
All  its  bitter  turmoil, 
Its  days  with  clouds  overcast. 
Is  to  patiently  wait 
At  the  gate, 
Until  it  be  opened  at    last. 


ELIZABETH    DELANO    BROWNE, 

Second  wife  of  Kev.  L.  C.  Browne,  was  born  in  Middlefield,  N.  Y.,  June 
1,  1824.  She  has  been  from  early  girlhood  a  Universalist,  and  has  been  an 
earnest  worker  in  Sunday- school  wherever  her  lot  has  been  cast.  She  was 
formerly  a  constant  contributor  to  such  of  our  publications  as  the  "Magazine 
and  Advocate,"  "Star  of  Bethlehem,"  "Ladies'  Repository. "  "Lizzie"  was 
her  usual  signature.  She  seldom  signed  her  own  name,  feeling  very  shy 
about  having  the  editors  know  who  "Lizzie"  was.  She  was  a  spicy  writer, 
and  whatever  she  wrote  was  read  with  interest.  She  was  a  resident  of  a 
small  place,  and  in  a  letter  to  us  said,  "The  comfort  I  took  in  reading  the 
magazines  and  papers  that  found  their  way  through  the  mail  to  me  in  those 
old  days,  not  seeing  or  knowing  much  of  the  great  outside  world,  I  can  not 
express  to  you.  They  were  most  eagerly  welcomed,  and  were  companions  of 
tbe  choicest  intelligence." 

Her  name  was  Pope,  and  she  was  a  teacher  in  one  of  the  public  schools 
in  Lowell,  Mass.,  for  five  years,  during  which  time  she  wrote  articles  for  the 
"Christian  Messenger,"  published  in  New  York.  She  wrote  for  the  "Lily  of 
the  Valley,"  when  it  was  edited  by  Mrs.  Livermore,  and  others.  "The  Better 
Faith, "  a  story  written  by  her  years  ago,  is  most  creditable  to  the  author. 
Abel  Tompkins  published  it  with  other  stories  in  a  Sunday-school  book. 

Miss  Pope  was  married  to  Rev.  L.  C.  Browne  in  the  Autumn  of  1852. 
In  recent  years  she  has  spoken  frequently  in  churches  of  various  denomina- 
tions on  the  subject  of  Temperance.  She  has  also  given  discourses  or  lec- 
tures on  "Women  at  Home,"  and  her  lectures  have  elicited  much  interest. 


296  •        OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Indeed,  she  has  done  almost  everything  that  her  hands  and  hrain  could  find 
to  do,  which  would  not  interfere  with  household  duties  and  cares,  which  are 
paramount  to  all  else  to  her,  for  she  is  a  veritable  Martha.  Since  her  hus- 
band's sight  was  impaired  her  pen  has  been  quite  idle,  the  most  of  her  writ- 
ings being  translations  from  the  French. 


ADA    R.    NOETON 

Was  twin  sister  to  Ida  Carnahan.  She  is  also  sister  to  Lucy,  who  married 
Abner  C.  Thomas,  son  of  Rev.  Abel  C.  Thomas.  These  sisters  are  the 
daughters  of  Rowena,  eldest  sister  of  the  Cary  sisters.  Ada,  the  subject  of 
this  sketch,  married  James  Norton,  of  Hightstown,  N.  J.  They  are  all  in- 
tellectual, gifted  women,  but  Mrs.  Norton  has  the  most  marked  poetic  gifts 
of  all  next  to  Alice,  who  declared  that  Ada  really  possessed  more  poetical 
genius  than  herself.  We  lament  very  much  that  we  have  only  space  for  the 
following. 


HIGH    AND    LOW. 

It  is  easier  before  the  world  to  work  some  mighty  deed, 
Than  to  do  the  humble  duties  that  the  world  will  never  heed. 
Than  to  work  as  worn  and  weary  women  work  for  conscience  sake, 
Than  to  toil  and  moil  as  men  must  toil  and  moil  but  bread  to  make. 

It  is  easier  to  climb  the  mountains,  even  to  the  top, 
Looking  over  broad  expanses  from  each  shady  resting  spot, 
Than  to  travel  on  the  burning  plain  when  that  the  sun  is  high, 
Level  sameness  under  foot,  stretched  to  meet  a  brooding  sky. 

Dowered  with  a  Sampson's  strength,  verily,  many  men  are  found. 
That  with  arms  about  the  temple's  props  may  raze  it  to  the  ground. 
One  man  may  pull  a  temple  down  to  show  his  power,  when 
To  rear  the  stately  edifice  it  takes  a  million  men. 

Grand  it  is  to  do  great  deeds,  and  grand  it  is  to  stand  on  high, 
Grand  to  pull  a  temple  down  when  the  multitude  is  by. 


LUELLA    JULIETTE    BARTLETT    CASE.  297 

But  the  toiling  millions  on  the  plains  that  look  so  low  and  small 
It   is  their  hard  hands  thai    build  the   stately  temples,  after  all. 

15cst   and  strongest  grow  the  natures  that   with  most   of  hardship  cope. 
Out  of  sorrow  and  temptation  Bpringetfa  charity  and  hope, 
And  some  humble  deeds  of  humble  folk  shine  Luminous  and  grand, 
Like  a  little   patch   of  sunshine   let    into  a  cloudy  land. 

Masons,   builders,   workmen   only,   are   we   each   and   every   one; 
The  best   stone  high  or  low  can   lay.  a  duty  humbly  done  ; 
Brothers,  sisters,  there  is  one  seeth  even  a  sparro\v*s  fall, 
Who  will  number  every  stone   we  lay   upon   his  temple's  wall. 


LUELLA    JULIETTE   BAKTLETT    CASE, 

Who  was  one  of  our  most  finished  and  elegant  writers,  and  one  of  oui 
most  pure  and  spiritual  women,  was  born  in  Kingston,  N.  H.,  December  30, 
1807.  Her  maiden  name  was  Bartlett;  she  was  a  granddaughter  of  Gov- 
ernor Josiah  Bartlett,  of  New  Hampshire,  who  was  one  of  the  signers  of  tin 
Declaration  of  Independence,  and  upon  the  memoir  of  whose  life  she  was 
engaged  at  the  time  of  her  last  illness.  Miss  Bartlett  was  married  to  Elipha- 
let  Case,  May  8,  1828,  and  resided  in  Lowell,  Mass.,  and  in  Cincinnati. 
Ohio. 

Mrs.  E.  A.  Bacon  said,  in  the  "Repository,"  at  the  time  of  her  death, 
"To  us  outside  of  her  family  circle  she  seemed  one  of  those  rare  beings,  whose 
pen  is  an  index  to  their  person  and  character.  The  gentle  charities  and 
amenities  of  social  life,  the  cultivation  of  the  most  refined  and  delicate  taste, 
the  constant  pursuit  of  literature  harmoniously  blended  in  her  nature  to  make 
it  complete." 

She  was  vivacious  and  sprightly  to  a  delightful  degree,  but  could  be  su- 
premely calm  and  dignified,  if  occasion  called.  Her  whole  person  and  dress 
and  demeanor  expressed  the  extreme  of  refinement.  She  possessed  a  rare 
and  noble  mind,  refined  and  delicate  taste,  a  heart  of  love,  ever  overflow- 
ing with  charity  for  others.  She  never  mourned  over  the  past,  but  her  heart 
and  brain  ever  worked  on  with  forward  look.  She  was  a  contributor  to  the 
"Rose  of  Sharon,"  the  "Quarterly"  and  the  "Laches'  Repository,"  and  withou* 


298  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

doubt  to  all  of  our  denominational  papers.  To  the  "Star  of  Bethlehem,"  ed- 
ited by  Rev.  T.  B.  Thayer,  D.D.,  and  our  lamented  Rev.  Abel  C.  Thomas,  she 
was  a  choice  contributor.  Dr.  Thayer  said  of  her,  "She  at  least,  if  any  one, 
could  say  that  she  never  wrote  a  line,  which  dying  she  woidd  wish  unwritten." 
On  the  10th  of  October,  1857,  in  the  home  of  her  childhood,  surround- 
ed by  kind  and  tender  friends  to  administer  all  that  loving  hearts  could  sug- 
gest, the  ved  was  drawn  which  closed  the  earthly  sight  for  heavenly  visions. 
Her  disease  was  a  painful  and  lingering  dropsy  and  paralysis,  and  yet, 

"Palm  to  palm  to  pray. 
Her  hands  were  ever  raised 
To  him  who  smooths  the  way." 

Rev.  T.  B.  Thayer,  D.D.,  pays  a  just  tribute  to  this  rare  woman.  "As 
to  her  disposition  it  is  safe  to  say  that  she  was  one  of  the  sweetest-tempered 
women  I  ever  knew,  always  cheerful,  patient  and  hopeful  under  the  most  un- 
toward circumstances,  and  never  by  word  or  act  casting  her  burdens  on 
others.  She  was  as  lovely  in  disposition  and  character  as  in  person  and 
manners,  always  a  perfect  lady  in  her  bearing  towards  others,  cordial  and 
pleasing  in  her  address,  and  sincerely  Christian  in  spirit,  and  in  the  whole 
conduct  of  her  life.  She  was  conscientious  to  an  extreme  degree,  and  did 
what  she  regarded  as  her  duty,  without  regard  to  others,  their  faithfulness  or 
unfaithfulness,  their  love  or  their  hatred.  In  conversation  she  was  one  of 
the  most  interesting  and  magnetic  persons  I  ever  met.  She  was  well  read 
in  the  best  current  literature,  a  clear,  strong  thinker,  discriminating  in  judg- 
ment, critical  in  her  tastes,  and,  therefore,  always  had  something  to  say 
which  was  instructive  and  attractive.  As  a  writer  she  was  remarkable  for 
the  richness  of  her  thoughts  and  the  perfectly  classic  purity  of  her  style. 
She  wrote  but  little,  but  that  little  was  always  read  and  admired  by  those 
whose  opinion  was  worth  something.  And  then  she  always  wrote  with  a 
purpose,  seeking  to  elevate,  encourage  and  ennoble  those  who  read  her  pro- 
ductions. Her  imagination  was  very  active,  but  it  never  led  her  judgment 
astray,  for  she  had  a  large  measure  of  sterling  good  sense,  and  in  many 
:  'lings  was  eminently  practical  in  her  views  of  life  and  of  the  world.  During 
the  period  thai  her  husband  was  editor  of  a  paper  in  Cincinnati,  she  wrote 
many  poems  and  short  articles  which  attracted  the  attention  of  other  jour- 


LUELLA   JULIETTE    BAETLETT    CASK.  29!) 

mils,  und  were  largely  quoted  with  generous  praise.  In  answer  to  the  repeat- 
ed question,  'Who  is  the  author'?'    he  disclosed  her  name,   and  gave  a  brief 

sketch  of  her  antecedents.  I  can  safely  say  that,  in  my  early  ministry,  hav- 
ing hoarded  with  Mr.  Case  two  or  three  years,  I  owed  more  to  her  society, 
influence  and  friendly  criticism  of  my  sermons  and  writings,  than  to  any 
other  cause,  what  little  merit  they  may  have.  And  she  is  one  of  the  few 
persons  I  have  met  in  my  life,  of  whom  I  could  say  the  longer  I  knew,  the 
more  I  admired  and  valued  them." 

I  am  at  a  loss  in  selecting  from  the  writings  of  Mrs.  Case,  but  will  ven- 
ture to  quote  "Voices  from  Etruria,"  her  last  contribution  to  the  "Rose  of 
Sharon,"  1857. 

VOICES    FROM    ETRURIA. 

Pictured  form  of  one  who  Long 

Of  this  world  has  ceased  to  be. 
In  the  balls  of  Light  and  song 

Not  one  vestige  tells  of  thee. 
Why  art  thbu  amidst  the,  gloom 
Of  Etruria's  storied  tomb  ? 

Massy    locks   of   raven    hair 

Cluster  round   thy   beaming  face; 
Floating  vestments,  rich  and  rare, 

bend  thy  form  etherial  grace. 
Light   of  step— .if   (lashing    eye— 
Girl!    Thy  smile   was   son-cry! 

Who   was   In'    with    flutes  that    mete 

Measures  of  melodious  chime. 
With    thine  own   dark   eyes,   and   feet 

Moving  in   harmonic  tine  ? 
Flowed   your  Lives  in  kindred  streams? 
Shared  ye  child] l's  pleasant   dreams? 

Nought   replies!    O'er   your   repose 

Ages  bend  with  sullen  jeer- 
Soars  the  ilex— blooms  the  rose 

O'er  Etruria's  mouldering  bier. 
Ye  have  been— no  more  appears— 
Centuries  count  your  buried  years! 

Ceased  the  dance,  and  bowed  the  head. 

At.  the  beck  of  haughty  Borne, 
When  she  marched  with  triumph  tread. 

Citing  nations  to  their  doom? 


300  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Humbled  lie  her  eagles  proud, 
Wrapped,  like  ye,  in  misty  shroud! 

With  her  lordly  legions  passed 

Mightier  powers— a  phantom  train- 
Touching  all  her  projects  vast 

With  a  spell  that  made  them  vain; 
Silently  they  cited  her 
To  the  same  low  sepulchre. 

Ye  survived,  while  armies  swept 

Round  your  halls  in  tempest  march- 
While  the  mould  and  ivy  crept 

O'er  Tarquinii's  crumbling  arch— 
Ye  have  braved  each  whirlwind  hour, 
Roman  and  Barbarian  power. 

Ye  have  turned  a  solemn  page 
In  a  dead  world's  history; 

Nations  of  a  distant  age- 
Ask  ye  what  their  fate  will  be; 

Speak,  ye  prophets,  from  the  gloom 

Of  your  silent,  centuriei  tomb! 

Tell  the  world  that  nations  feel 

Mightier  force  than  sword   and  mine. 
Bidding  throne  and  fortress  reel 

As  the  tempest  sways  the  vine- 
Tell  how  ancient  empire  fell 
Girt  with  tower  and  citadel. 

Turn  the  tear-stained  page  of  man, 

Soiled  with  sensualism  and  crime- 
Show,  how,  since  the  years  began, 
Selfish  power  has  transient  time- 
How  its  crown  is  gnawed  with  rust, 
And  its  sceptre  falls  to  dust. 

True  the  steel,  the  rampart  strong, 

Firm  the  hands  that  hold  the  sway- 
There  is  One,  who  guards  no   wrong, 

Whom  all  powers  and  hosts  obey. 
He,  alone,  the  safety  brings. 
Lord  of  Lords,  and  King  of  Kings! 

There  are  few  liner  hymns  in  the  language  than  this : 

GOD'S    KINGDOM    HERE. 

Oh,  where,  our  Saviour,  sweeps  the  lino 

That  marks  thy  kingdom's  holy  reign  ? 
Is  it  where  northern  meteors  shine, 


JJL>.  £d  du  U  <     Jn  an  a  4  - 


M.    LOUISE    THOMAS.  301 

Or  i_r  1 1 « I  -^  the  cross  the  southern  main? 
Where  breaks  the  dawn  o'er  spicy  Lands, 
Or  twilight  sleeps  on  deserl  .-amis  ? 

Is  it  where  sunny  skies  grow  dim 

With  smoke  of  heathen  sacrifice? 
Or  where,  in  costly  domes  the  hymn 

Is  taughl  on  incense-clouds  to  rise? 
Nay,  nay;  thy  blessed  Word  has  shown 
Thy  kingdom  is  the  hearl   alone! 

That,  solemn  world  whoce  bounds  between 

Life's  mysteries  of  birth  and    death, 
Are  filled  with  warring  hosts  unseen, 

Beings    of  power  though  not  of  breath, 
The  spirit  realm,  where'er  it  be, 
Is  the  dominion ,swayed  by  thee. 

Wild,   phantom   shapes   of  gloom   and  fear, 

Roam  dimly  through  the  haunted  spot, 
And  earth  holds  not  a  land   so  drear 

As  the  sad  hearl  that  owns  thee  not, 
Where  sorrows  wound  and  pleasures  pall, 
And  death's   dread   shadow   darkens   all. 

But  lift  thy  sceptre   there,  its  bowers 

Shall  be  serene  and  sweet  and  fair, 
And  as  in  time's  primeval   hours, 

The  holy  ones  shall  gather  there. 
And  heaven's  own  peace  the   soul  o'erflow, 
E'en  while  it  lingers  here   below. 


M.    LOUISE    THOMAS. 

I  have  felt  great  anxiety  in  regard  to  many  of  the  sketches  in  the 
"Woman  Workers."  I  have  felt  incompetent  to  portray  the  nobleness,  self- 
sacrifice  and  sweetness  of  many  a  life  recorded  in  these  pages;  and  in  pre- 
paring this  one,  I  was  sure  that,  words  would  fail  me  to  present  her  life-work 
so  that  it  could  he  felt  and  realized  by  others.  In  answer  to  my  letter  re- 
questing facts,  came  the  following:  "If  you  want  bare  facts,  I  can  give  them 
to  you  equal  to  Gradgrind.     Where  was  I  born"?     Who  were  my  forefathers 


302  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

(and  mothers)  and  all  that  sort  of  thing?  But  dearly  beloved,  when  you 
come  to  drawing  on  fancy,  I  do  not  understand  it.  Exploits !  There  are 
none  in  my  hfe  to  record.  I  never  did  anything  worth  telling,  and  I  never 
wrote  anything  worth  reading.  That  is  a  fact.  I  have  tried  to  do  both,  to 
be  faithful,  and  I  know  I  am  industrious  and  persevering  and  love  animals 
and  nature  and  humanity  and  ah  that ;  but  how  in  the  world  is  one  going  to 
dissect  one's  self  and  lay  these  things  before  the  world?  I  would  just  like 
to  do  it  if  it  were  somebody  else,  but  for  myself,  I  can  not." 

Her  refusal  did  not  daunt  me  in  the  least.  I  felt  independent  of  her 
in  collecting  "  exploits "  sufficient  to  give  a  readable  sketch,  for  there  are 
hundreds  in  New  York  and  Pennsylvania  who  have  watched  her  career  with 
interest  and  admiration,  who  had  jotted  down  many  an  item  unknown  to 
her  ;  but  dates  are  interesting,  and  without  her  help  I  could  not  produce 
them.  I  had  written  to  several  friends  for  assistance,  but  they  were  dilatory 
in  their  replies,  and  that  had  put  me  into  a  condition  to  scout  figures.  I  was 
about  to  commence  my  sketch  when  the  following  arrived  from  Scotland, 
from  the  pen  of  one  who  needs  no  introduction  from  me,  one  who  has  known 
the  subject  of  this  sketch  for  thirty  years  at  least — Caroline  A.  Soule,  our 
devoted  missionary  to  hard-shelled,  Presbyterian  Scotland. 

Some  journalist,  after  relating  a  part  of  the  great  amount  of  philanthropic 
work  done  by  Mrs.  Thomas,  said,  "A  woman  like  this  is  greater  than  all 
the  Cassars." 

It  will  be  remembered,  that  soon  after  the  translation  of  her  husband, 
Dr.  Chapin  passed  on  to  the  beyond.  Mrs.  Thomas  attended  his  funeral, 
and  in  a  letter  to  me,  she  wrote : 

"Yes,  God  is  calling  home  his  own.  I  was  in  New  York  at  the  funeral 
of  Dr.  Chapin.  The  lights  are  not  going  out,  but  God  is  setting  them  liigher 
up,  and  how  differently  the  world  looks  to  those  who  see  it  under  these  up- 
lifted lights.  Ah  me !  how  changed  and  strange  it  is ;  it  is  like  the  earth  as  it 
lies  to-day  covered  with  its  heavy  fall  of  snow;  the  landmarks  are  all  gone, 
and  one  is  lost  and  bewildered  by  the  strange  silence  and  the  chill.  God 
help  me ! " 

Mrs.  Soule  thus  describes  the  subject  of  this  sketch : 

"Mrs.  M.  Louise  Thomas,  the  second  President  of  the  Woman's  Centenary 


M.     LOUISE    THOMAS.  308 

Association,  has  a  birthright  in  the  Univcrsalist  Church,  heing  a  memher  of 
one  of  the  oldest  Univcrsalist  families  in  the  United  States.  She  was  horn 
at  Mt.  Holly,  N.  J.,  during  the  temporary  residence  there  of  her  parents, 
both  of  whom  were  natives  of  Pennsylvania.  Her  father,  Judge  S.  N.  Palm- 
er, of  Pottsville,  a  man  of  undoubted  integrity  and  nobility  of  character,  was 
of  old  Puritan  stock,  being  on  his  mother's  side  a  lineal  descendant  of  Gov. 
Bradford  and  Rev.  John  Robinson,  the  faithful  pastor  of  the  Mayflower; 
and  on  that  of  his-  father,  of  Miles  Standish. 

"To  those  intimate  friends  of  Mrs.  Thomas  who,  time  and  again,  have 
marveled  at  her  fearless  energy,  her  steady  will-power,  her  systematic  indus- 
try, her  unbaffled  patience,  her  large  love  of  humanity,  her  ardent  taste  for 
study,  and  the  tireless  persistency  with  which  she  seeks  perfection  in  those 
hranches  that  accord  most  directly  with  her  nature — to  those  who  have  known 
her  as  I  have  known  her,  it  is  an  easy  matter  to  trace  in  her  characteristics, 
those  which  marked  so  decidedly  the  lives  whence  she  draws  her  descent. 
Had  she  been  horn  when  our  country  was  yet  in  its  infancy,  she  would  have 
been  known  as  one  of  the  bravest  of  our  colonial  women,  undaunted  by  the 
perils  of  those  perilous  times.  Had  she  been  born  when  we  were  passing 
from  our  colonial  to  our  independent  life,  she  would  have  been  the  peer  of 
those  noble  women  who  sold  their  jewels  to  buy  clothing  for  Washington's 
troops,  who  blessed  their  sons  and  sent  them  into  the  army  with  unshed 
tears,  and  who  kept  up  the  spirits  of  absent  husbands  and  fathers  with  let- 
ters breathing  only  of  that  love  which  death  could  not  chill,  that  sacrifice 
which  nothing  could  terrify.  Born,  fortunately  for  our  church,  when  the  in- 
heritance of  every  child  was  a  free  country  and  an  untrammeled  conscience, 
she  brought  into  her  life-work  those  elements  of  character  which  have  made 
her  a  successful  woman  in  the  grandest  sense  of  that  word;  never  intimidated 
when  duty  called  though  obstacles  innumerable  might  block  the  way;  never 
turned  aside  from  her  convictions,  whether  according  or  not  with  popular 
views;  discerning,  intuitively  as  it  were,  the  right  from  the  wrong;  censur- 
ing error  with  a  severity  that  yet  had  no  sting,  because  of  the  charity  that 
was  back  of  it ;  and  seeing  and  fostering  true  merit  in  spite  of  entanglements 
or  shadows. 

"The  childhood  and  girlhood  of  Mrs.  Thomas  was  lived  in  a  home  where 


304  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

all  the  best  standards  of  life  were  not  only  taught,  but  practised,  and  thus 
her  innate  refinement  and  nobility  were  developed  and  cultivated  to  a  degree 
which  eminently  qualified  her  for  the  high  and  responsible  positions  she  was 
hereafter  to  assume.  Accustomed  always  to  the  very  best  of  American  so- 
ciety, and  gifted  with  rare  conversational  powers,  when  she  passed  from  her 
early  home  to  that  of  her  wedded  life,  she  at  once  took  up  in  a  dignified  way 
the  new  and  arduous  duties  that  devolved  upon  her,  and  as  mistress  of  her  own 
house  received  and  entertained  the  almost  countless  new  friends  that  claimed 
her  hospitality,  with  a  tender  grace  and  a  cordial  heartiness  that  has  made 
that  home,  wherever  it  was  for  the  time  located,  a  spot  of  lovely  memories. 

"In  1843  she  became  the  wife  of  Rev.  Abel  C.  Thomas,  and  from  the 
day  of  her  marriage,  was  the  interested,  and  earnest,  and  constant  co-worker 
with  him  in  all  the  varied  duties  incident  to  a  minister's  wife.  None  were 
too  great  for  her,  however  much  they  might  demand  of  patience,  energy,  in- 
dustry, health,  strength  and  even  sacrifice.  None  were  too  small  for  her,  if 
by  contributing  that  mite  she  could  dry  one  tear,  or  awaken  one  smile.  She 
kept  'open  house'  literally,  seldom  without  some  claimant  upon  her  hospi- 
tality, and  all  were  welcomed,  and  all  were  the  better  and  happier  for  their 
sojourn  under  her  roof.  The  children,  the  young  people  and  the  adults  of 
the  parish  alike  received  her  labors  of  love,  the  Sunday-school  finding  in 
her  one  deeply  interested  in  the  religious  training  of  youth,  the  Bible  class 
reaping  rich  treasures  from  her  marvelous  memory,  and  the  different  aid  so- 
cieties connected  with  the  church  all  receiving  her  able  ministrations.  Her 
married  life  was  begun  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.  From  there  the  home  treasures 
went  to  Cincinnati,  0. ;  then  East  again  to  Philadelphia,  where  for  fifteen 
years  she  was  a  tireless  laborer  in  every  branch  of  church  work,  diligent,  too, 
all  the  while  in  the  performance  of  home  duties,  and  carefully  superintend- 
ing the  education  of  her  two  sons. 

"During  this  period,  she  with  her  children  accompanied  her  husband  in 
an  extended  tour  through  Great  Britain  and  on  the  Continent,  spending 
eighteen  months  in  travel.  Her  vivid  pictures  of  foreign  life  and  her  graphic 
descriptions  of  the  varied  events  of  those  months  have  added  many  times  to 
the  pleasure  of  her  guests,  while  the  foreign  letters  which  were  published  and 


M.    LOUISE    'i  l.nMAS.  305 

widely  circulated,  give  evidence  of  literary  abilities,  which,  hud  literature  been 
her  (dioiee,  would  have  made  her  a  successful  author. 

"During  this  tour  many  charming  friendships  woe  made  with  persons 
high  in  social  life,  and  intimacies  formed  with  the  best  literary  minds  of  the 
day,  and  these  have  been  always  kept  up,  and  the  Old  and  the  New  World  are 
thus  beautifully  blended  in  her  life.  It  has  been  my  good  fortune  to  meet 
several  of  the  people  who  made  the  acquaintance  of  Mrs.  Thomas  while  in 
( Ireat  Britain,  and  1  have  always  found  that  she  had  so  won  upon  their  hearts 
that  they  entertained  for  her  an  affectionate  regard  that  time  could  never 
weaken.  I  well  remember  a  Winter's  day  spent  in  Carrickfcrgus,  a  suburb  of 
Belfast,  Ireland,  in  company  with  the  widow  of  the  celebrated  Dr.  Drum- 
mond,  of  Dublin,  and  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Campbell.  The  falling  snow  was 
blown  every  way  by  wild  gusts  of  wind.  The  sea  was  in  a  fury  lashing  the 
garden  walls  and  casting  its  foam  all  about  the  lawn,  but  I  heeded  neither 
snow  nor  sea,  as  seated  beside  the  cheery  grate  blazing  with  coals,  I  listened 
to  what  had  happened  twenty-seven  years  before— to  the  memories  of  Mrs. 
Drummond  and  her  daughter,  relative  to  the  visit  of  Kev.  A.  C.  Thomas,  wife 
and  sons.  I  felt  proud  that  Mrs.  Thomas  was  my  countrywoman  and  my 
friend.  They  alluded  particularly  to  her  rare  conversational  gifts,  and  said 
she  was  the  centre  of  attraction  at  every  social  gathering  to  which  she  was 
invited. 

"Shortly  after  their  return  home,  Philadelphia  became  the  busy  centre 
through  which  the  loyal  North  poured  its  supplies  of  men  and  arms  down  to 
the  scene  of  battle,  and  received  the  retiring  thousands  for  medical  treatment 
in  the  many  hospitals  in  and  around  that  city.  Mrs.  Thomas  saw  the 
need  of  a  direct,  personal,  womanly  influence  to  communicate  between  tin  se 
heroic  sufferers  and  their  distant  homes,  and  at  once  organized  a  system  of 
correspondence  with  anxious  friends,  and  of  personal  visitations  of  the  sick 
and  wounded,  during  which  she  wrote  thousands  of  letters,  giving  nearly 
her  whole  time  to  the  sad,  yet  sorely-needed  work. 

"At  the  close  of  the  war  it  was  found  that  Mrs.  Thomas's  health  had 
suffered  greatly  from  the  long  strain  of  overwork,  and  her  husband  having 
been  for  several  years  also  very  feeble,  it  was  thought  best  for  them  to  seek 


306  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

rest  in  the  country.  Accordingly  in  the  Spring  of  1864  they  removed  to 
Hightstown,  N.  J.,  a  thriving  farming  neighborhood,  with  a  good  Universa- 
lis! Church  and  an  intelligent  people. 

"Up  to  this  time  Mrs.  Thomas  had  never  spent  a  single  week  on  a  farm, 
nor  in  the  country,  except  as  a  traveler  journeying  from  place  to  place.  But 
she  entered  at  once  with  keen  relish  into  all  the  enjoyments  and  wondrous 
developments  of  rural  life.  She  made  friends  with  the  farmers,  asked  them 
questions  on  all  sorts  of  farming  subjects,  examined  their  flocks  and  herds, 
scrutinized  their  corn  bins  and  cattle  stalls,  watched  the  green-houses,  the 
propagating  beds  and  the  nursling  fruit  trees,  studied  soils  and  fertilizers, 
and  became,  in  short,  an  earnest,  interested  student  of  the  whole  science  of 
the  tillage  of  the  soil;  and  this  not  to  the  detriment  of  her  other  pursuits 
and  studies,  attending  sedulously  to  aU  the  requirements  of  her  high  sofcial 
position  and  keeping  well  up  with  the  standard  literature  of  the  day. 

"Their  next  home  was  in  Bridgeport,  Conn.,  where  they  spent  two  years. 
In  1867  they  purchased  a  small  farm  at  Tacony,  near  the  Delaware,  above 
Philadelphia.  Here,  from  the  very  first,  Mrs.  Thomas  has  had  the  entire  and 
sole  direction  and  management  of  all  the  farming  operations,  illustrating  by 
a  quiet,  yet  persistent  energy,  that  a  woman  may  and  can  be  a  successful 
agriculturist,  and  at  the  same  time  an  educated  and  refined  lady.  While 
closely  familiar  with  all  the  details  of  field,  garden,  woodland  and  dairy  work, 
she  has  never  allowed  these  intimacies  to  dwarf  in  the  least  her  purely  in- 
tellectual labors,  but  rather  demonstrated  that  intelligence  is  the  best  helper 
nature  can  have  in  its  manifold  efforts  to  develop  its  best  productions. 

"Her  crops  of  wheat,  lye,  oats,  corn  and  hay  are  equal  to  any  in  the 
neighborhood,  and  her  small  but  very  select  herd  of  Aldemey  cattle,  all  of 
the  purest  blood  and  all  raised  on  the  place  from  imported  stock,  are  truly 
beautiful.  She  has  sent  them  into  distant  parts  of  the  country,  East  and 
West,  and  has  generally  orders  for  them  in  advance.  I  may  mention  here 
that  when  I  visited  the  British  Museum,  London,  hi  1878,  the  finest  ear  of 
maize  on  exhibition  was  'from  the  farm  of  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas,  Tacony,  Pa., 
U.  S.  A.'     It  was  a  long,  perfect  ear  of  yellow  corn. 

"She  is  a  skillful  apiarian,  handling  the  honey-bees  like  dry  corn,  open- 
ing their  hives,  or  lifting  them  all  from  one  hive  to  another  with  perfect 


M.    LOUISE   THOMAS.  307 

impunity.  Her  poultry-house  is  very  thorough  unci  complete,  and  her  poultry- 
yard,  filled  with  pure  blooded  light  Brahma  fowls  is  her  special  pride,  and 
she  claims  that  it  is  also  profitable. 

"She  has  brought  up  and  educated  a  large  number  of  boys  and  girls 
mostly  orphans  of  various  nationalities,  among  them  negroes,  Indians,  Scotch, 
Dutch,  German  and  American,  and  it  is  her  boast  that  nearly  all  of  them  have 
turned  out  to  be  honest  and  useful  men  and  women.  Some  of  these  are 
always  her  helps  upon  the  farm,  and  she  contends  that  herein  lies  a  just 
solution  of  the  domestic  labor  queston,  and  of  the  reform  and  education 
of  the  so-called  criminal*  classes. 

"Mrs.  Thomas  has  been  during  the  whole  period  of  her  life  a  pro- 
nounced, denominational  Universe  list,  never  temporizing  and  never  wavering 
in  her  loyalty  to  the  faith  it  represents. 

"For  six  years  she  was  the  Secretary  of  the  Pennsylvania  Universalist 
Convention,  and  not  a  single  duty  connected  with  that  office  was  ever  delay- 
ed or  imperfectly  fulfilled,  though  during  that  time  her  hands  were  heavily 
burdened  with  other  denominational  work.  From  the  very  first  she  has  been 
one  of  the  active  spirits  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association.  She  was 
elected  Vice  President  for  Pennsylvania  at  its  organization  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y., 
in  September,  1800,  and  retained  that  office  eleven  years,  when  she  gave  it 
up  to  become  the  second  President.  In  all  the  dark  and  trying  hours  of  the 
early  years  of  the  Association  she  was  its  steadfast  supporter,  holding  to 
its  interests  with  the  grip  of  a  love  that  nothing  could  shatter.  In  1871  she 
was  one  of  a  committee  of  three,  appointed  to  submit  a  constitution  for  its 
re-organization,  and  in  1873  she  became  one  of  its  incorporators  for  Na- 
tional Work  in  the  District  of  Columbia.  She  has  also  had  the  exclusive 
charge  of  the  publication  of  tracts  and  books  for  the  W.  C.  A. — the  only  or- 
ganized Tract  Society  of  the  Universalist  Church,  and  which  has  already 
put  into  circulation  over  three  millions  of  pages.  Beginning  this  enterprise 
with  an  absurdly  small  sum  of  money,  she  has  wrought  so  frugally,  and  yet 
so  wisely,  that  every  civilized  land  has  already  reaped  benefit  from  the  liter- 
ature it  has  published  and  scattered. 

"The  home  of  Mrs.  Thomas  is  marked  by  a  cordial,  yet  simple  hospi- 
tality that  makes  it  one  to  be  ever  tenderly  remembered  by  those  who  have 


308  OUR   WOMAN   WORKERS. 

eaten  at  its  table,  or  slept  under  its  roof.  It  has  numbered  amongst  its 
guests  many  of  America's  most  celebrated  men  and  women,  while  not  a  few 
from  other  lands  have  carried  over  the  sea  beautiful  memories  of  that  manse 
on  the  Delaware.  If  the  south  poreh  could  speak,  it  would  be  wonderfully 
eloquent  in  its  narrations  of  the  conversations  it  has  heard,  as  doctors  of 
divinity,  doctors  of  law,  doctors  of  medicine,  poets,  philosophers,  novelists, 
historians,  e  litors,  business  men  of  every  class,  have  rested  their  weary 
footsteps  there,  and  poured  out  their  hearts'  best  emotions,  and  the  best 
thoughts  of  their  brains  into  the  sympathetic  ears  of  a  host  and  hostess, 
whose  house  was  never  so  crowded  but  it  had  room  for  one  more. 

"The  manse  is  a  perfect  storehouse  of  treasures,  gathered  far  and  near, 
by  the  taste  of  its  mistress.  There  are  rare  old  books  and  manuscripts  in 
a  library  of  over  two  thousand  volumes.  There  is  very  old  china,  and  quaint 
furniture,  and  aU  these  seem  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  grand  old  trees 
overshadowing  the  house,  and  the  ancient  historic  neighborhood  of  Phila- 
delphia. 

"During  the  time  of  the  Exposition  in  1876,  the  manse  was  crowded  for 
six  months  with  guests  from  aU  parts  of  the  Union  and  from  Europe;  and 
though  there  was  never  a  'let  up'  of  visitors,  for  one  hour,  yet  everyone  was 
made  to  feel  himself,  or  herself,  cordially  welcome.  And  during  this  j^eriod 
to  blend  more  closely  the  past  and  the  present,  the  abundant  and  delicious 
food  was  served  on  china  over  a  hundred  years  old ;  and  on  curious  pewter 
dishes  that  had  come  down  from  the  Colonial  period;  while  the  quaint  can- 
dlestick you  carried  to  your  room  at  night  had  seen  its  third  century. 

"From  the  time  Mrs.  Thomas  and  family  became  residents  of  this  lovely 
country  home,  there  loomed  in  the  distance  a  shadow  that  was  calculated  to 
touch  the  heart  with  a  tender  fear.  As  the  years  rolled  on  the  shadow  deep- 
ened, and  grew  nearer  till  it  rested  steadfastly  on  the  threshold,  and  all  came 
to  know  that  it  would  never  pass  away  till  the  'best  beloved'  of  the  household 
should  have  been  borne  across  that  threshold  never  to  return,  till  rest  should 
come  to  one  of  the  most  brilliant  brains  the  New  World  had  given  birth  to, 
and  yet  that  shadow  had  never  power  to  dim  the  glory  of  that  home.  All 
knew  that  the  master  was  slowly  but  surely  descending  into  the  silent  val- 
ley, but  all  knew  that  beyond  the  valley  lay  the  eternal  home,  and  that  he 


M.    LOUISE    THOMAS.  809 

who  had  been  a  herald  o)  ,the  cross  in  this  world  would  be  there  like  unto 
the  angels  of  God. 

"The  watching  of  that  long,  slow  decline/of  that  gradual  wastingaway  of 

the  life-forces,  was  very  saddening  to  her  who  for  years  had  rested  so  secure- 
ly in  that  grand  man's  protecting  care;  hut  with  a  heroism  horn  (if  pure 
wifely  devotion,  Mrs.  Thomas  hore  it  all  with  a  calmness  wonderful  to  see,  in 
turn  hecoming  herself  the  protector,  lavishing  on  the  invalid,  with  the  usury 
of  love,  all  the  tenderness  of  which  he  stood  in  need.  The  strain  grew 
harder  and  harder  as  the  years  came  and  went,  and  the  decline  of  strength 
hecame  more  evident;  and  yet,  so  systematic  was  her  industry,  that  all  her 
private  and  public  work  was  ever  faithfully  attended  to;  her  hospitalities 
were  as  generous  as  ever;  her  correspondence,  always  voluminous,  was 
scarcely  interfered  with ;  the  farm  and  all  husiness  interests  well  looked  after. 
But  she  sacredly  denied  herself,  during  the  latter  years,  those  visits  to  dis- 
tant friends  that  were  so  congenial,  and  fastened  herself  to  the  home  that 
held  her  dearest  treasure. 

"When  the  end  came  at  length,  and  he  who  had  charmed  America  and 
Great  Britain  with  his  rare  eloquence,  who  had  lifted  the  veil  for  thousands 
and  shown  them  the  exceeding  heauties  of  a  faith  in  Universahsm ;  who  had 
consecrated  head,  heart  and  hand  to  his  great  work  as  a  Gospel  minister  and 
a  Gospel  writer, — when  he  closed  his  eyes  on  earth  and  earthly  scenes,  and 
spent  his  last  night  above  ground  in  the  solemn  quiet  of  that  church  whose 
walls  had  so  often  resounded  with  his  voice ;  when  the  precious  dust  slept 
with  dust,  and  the  precious  spirit  went  hack  to  God,  and  the  loneliness  of 
widowhood  was  upon  her, — even  then  Mrs.  Thomas  did  not  falter  in  her  life- 
work.  Almost  worn  out  was  the  hody  with  the  strain  of  years,  but  the  sold  was 
yet  brave  and  strong.  Elected  within  a  month  to  the  office  of  President  of  the 
Woman's  Centenary  Association,  she  at  once  took  up  the  duties  devolving 
upon  that  office  with  accustomed  promptitude.  The  needs  of  the  Scottish 
Mission  were  abundantly  provided  for  out  of  her  own  generosity,  and  the 
whole  work  pushed  on  with  quiet  but  resistless  energy.  In  Sorosis, 
in  the  Woman's  Congress,  in  the  New  Century  Club,  in  all  her 
public  connections,  she  became  again  the  busy  helper,  her  insight 
into  character,   her   patience  with  details  and  her  sound   judgment    mak- 


310  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ing  her  highly  efficient.  And  though  necessarily  heavily  burdened  with 
business  of  a  private  character,  her  house  is  still  the  same  hospitable  one, 
the  sick  and  needy  and  friendless  receiving  there  as  warm  a  welcome  as  the 
weU,  the  rich  and  the  high-born.  Still  does  motherless  infancy  find  there  all 
that  it  seemed  to  have  lost  forever;  still  does  the  stranger  from  other  lands 
meet  there  the  reception  so  grateful  to  one  in  a  foreign  country;  still  does  she 
go  to  the  bedside  of  the  sick  with  all  needed  aid;  still  to  the  couch  of  the  dy- 
ing with  tender  promises;  still  to  the  grave  with  the  mourners,  helping  when 
help  is  most  needed.  When  I  think  of  her,  I  am  always  reminded  of  those 
women  of  the  first  century,  who  waited  so  long  at  the  foot  of  the  cruel  cross, 
and  who  went  so  early  to  the  silent  sepulchre." 


ANNIE    M.    THYNG, 

One  of  our  active  temperance  workers,  was  born  in  Horton,  Nova  Scotia. 
Her  maiden  name  was  Starratt.  The  close-communion  Baptist  church  was 
where  she  attended  divine  worship  during  her  youth,  and  she  says,  "My  en- 
trance into  that  church  was  the  stepping-stone  that  led  me  up  and  out  into 
the  glorious  light  and  liberty  of  our  faith ;  and  standing  as  I  do  to-day  with 
my  feet  firmly  fixed  upon  this  rock,  I  thank  God  for  the  church  that  first  led 
me  to  seek  salvation.  More  do  I  thank  him  that  I  was  led  into  our  all-era  - 
bracing  faith — the  universal  fatherhood  of  God  and  brotherhood  of  man. 
Only  a  close-communion  Baptist,  who  has  emerged  from  that  into  the  light 
of  our  divine  faith,  can  realize  the  narrowness  of  the  old  dogmas.  My  soul 
in  thankfulness  rejoices,  and  its  refrain  is  ever,  'Glory  to  God  in  the 
highest!1  " 

She  was  assisted  into  the  light  of  our  faith  by  hearing  Rev.  A.  J.  Pat- 
terson, D.D.,  of  Boston,  preach.  Dr.  Patterson  says,  "Mrs.  Thyng  was  an 
earnest  worker  in  our  church,  and  a  very  efficient  help  in  our  prayer-meet- 
ings. She  has  remarkable  natural  gifts,  and  a  wonderful  measure  of  mag- 
netism;   is  a  natural  orator,  and  when  at  her  best  sways  a  congregation  as 


MARTHA    A.     ADAMS.  3H 

few  persons  can.  In  her  temperance  work  she  goes  right  down  to  the 
drunkard,  takes  hirn  hy  the  hand,  talks  to  him,  pleads  with  him  as  a  sister 
might  plead  with  a  beloved  brother,  opens  to  him  his  very  soul,  and  makes 
hi  in  see  himself  as  God  sees  him;  then,  having  awakened  penitence  pro- 
found, by  a  happy  turn  she  shows  the  highway  of  holiness  that  invites  his 
footsteps,  and  kindles  hope  and  earnest  resolve  to  enter  that  way  and  be  a 
man.  Mrs.  Thyng  will,  I  think,  in  a  half  hour's  effort,  secure  more  names, 
from  a  promiscuous  crowd,  to  the  temperance  pledge,  than  any  temperance 
orator  of  my  acquaintance." 

Mrs.  Thyng  for  the  last  seven  years  has  worked  almost  constantly  for 
the  cause  of  temperance,  and  has  done  a  good  work  towards  cultivating  that 
part  of  the  Master's  vineyard.  She  has  secured  thousands  of  names  to  the 
total  abstinence  pledge,  and  has  sustained  and  supported  many  a  weak  and 
erring  one,  until  strength  was  given  to  stand  alone.  When  the  women  of 
our  nation  rose  in  opposition  to  this  great  and  direful  foe,  she  was  one  of  the 
first  to  commence  work  in  Boston,  Mass.,  and  then  in  other  parts  of  the 
state.  She  did  a  noble  work  in  New  York  and  Canada.  The  last  four 
years  of  her  time  has  been  given  to  Iowa  and  Minnesota. 


MARTHA    A.    ADAMS, 

The  second  wife  of  Rev.  J.  G.  Adams,  D.  D.,  at  present,  1881,  resid- 
ing at  Melrose  Highlands,  Mass.,  was  born  in  Charlton,  Mass.,  April  20, 1831. 
From  girlhood  she  had  a  genius  to  manage  children  (a  rare  gift),  and  at  the 
early  age  of  sixteen  commenced  teaching  school,  and  proved  herself  com- 
petent and  successful.  She  taught  in  Charlton  (her  birthplace),  Brookfield 
and  Worcester,  Mass.,  and  New  Haven,  Ct.  She  was  married  in  1865,  and, 
during  Dr.  Adams's  pastorate  in  Providence,  R.  I.,  Lowell,  Mass.,  and  Cin- 
cinnati, Ohio,  was  a  willing  and  earnest  helpmeet.  In  her  infancy  she  wis 
cradled  in  the  lap  of  our  faith,  and  never  has  been  indifferent  to  its  beauties, 
or  lukewarm  in  her  work  for  its  prosperity.      It  is  frequently  said,  that  to 


312  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

have  one  fully  appreciate  our  doctrine,  and  "God's  eternal  goodness,"  one 
should  be  educated  in  the  dismal  dogmas  of  orthodoxy.  Not  so  with  Mrs. 
Adams ;  her  gratitude  and  zeal  grew  upon  the  doctrine  she  was  born  in,  and 
that  her  soul  fed  upon  in  youth.  A  diligent  worker  at  all  times  in  our  Sun- 
day-school, not  simply  hstening  to  the  replies  of  the  pupil  to  questions  asked, 
but  intelligently  explaining  the  life  and  spirit  of  the  lesson,  time  spent  in  the 
Sunday-school  has  never  been  time  lost  to  her. 

The  cause  of  Temperance  enlisted  her  zeal  in  early  life,  and  during  her 
residence  in  Cincinnati  she  was  a  hearty  co-operator  in  that  notable  move- 
ment the  "Woman's  Crusade  in  the  West." 

Mrs.  Caroline  A.  Soule,  after  speaking  of  her  consecration  to,  and  in- 
dustry for  our  church,  says: 

"Of  Mrs.  Martha  A.  Adams  I  could  write  much,  had  I  time.  Tho'  I 
never  knew  her  till  we  began  our  W.  C.  A.  work  in  1869,  I  regard  her  as 
one  of  the  truly  grand  women  of  America.  She  is  one  of  the  most  just 
women  I  ever  knew,  exact  in  all  her  dealings.  Her  friendship  is  graced  with 
innumerable  tendernesses,  and  her  business  with  marked  exactness.  She  has 
handled  a  good  deal  over  $100,000  as  treasurer  of  the  W.  C.  A.,  and  I  defy 
any  one  to  find  a  wrong  figure  in  her  accounts." 

Mrs.  Adams  takes  anxious  interest  in  all  the  movements  of  women,  and 
most  intensely  believes  in  the  Christian  mission  of  her  sex  in  our  own  and  in 
all  the  churches  of  the  one  common  Leader  and  Lord. 


HARRIET   M.    BLANCHARD. 

Eev.  Warren  Skinner  removed  from  New  Hampshire  to  Brownville, 
Jefferson  Co.,  N.  Y.,  where  the  subject  of  this  sketch  was  born,  May  9,  1818. 
Miss  Skinner  was  married,  in  Proctors vi lie,  Vt.,  April  28,  1839,  to  James  M. 
Blanchard,  then  of  Rochester.  They  removed  to  Washington  in  1861,  and 
Mrs.  Blanchard  in  the  Fall  of  1861  commenced  her  work  for  the  soldiers. 
The  larger  part  of  her  time  was  devoted  to  hospital  work.     She  visited  all 


HAERIET    M.    BLANCHAHD.  313 

the  hospitals  in  and  around  Washington,  and  a  numher  of  times  went  to 
Alexandria,  Fairfax  Court  House  and  WindrniU  Point,  supplying  in  great 
quantities  delicacies  and  food  to  the  sick  and  wounded. 

Mrs.  Robert  Farnham,  a  wealthy  and  prominent  lady  of  "Washington, 
threw  open  her  spacious  house,  and  a  Soldiers'  Relief  Association  was 
formed,  where  almost  unlimited  supplies  were  sent  from  the  friends  at  the 
North.  An  ambulance  was  furnished  the  Association  by  the  Secretary  of 
War,  which  enabled  Mrs.  Blanchard  and  the  Association  to  furnish  the  sol- 
diers with  much  that  would  not  otherwise  have  reached  them. 

In  July,  1863,  while  Mrs.  Blanchard  was  working  with  all  her  might  for 
the  comfort  and  relief  of  the  sick  and  dying,  whose  mothers  were  too  far 
away  to  administer  the  cooling  draughts,  and  whisper  words  of  cheer  to  their 
dear  ones,  two  of  her  own  sons  sacrificed  their  lives  on  the  altar  of  our  coun- 
try. Let  us  hope  that  some  other  blessed  Sister  of  Charity  supplied  her 
place,  as  best  she  could,  to  her  dear  ones.  One  of  her  sons  was  killed  at 
Gettysburg,  the  2d  of  the  month ;  the  other  in  the  navy,  dying  on  board  the 
steamship,  "Alabama,"  of  Dupont's  Blockading  Squadron,  near  the  island  of 
llayti,  on  the  23d  of  the  same  month.     Mrs.  Blanchard  says: 

"I  thought  my  life-work  was  done,  and  that  I  could  not  rise  above  the 
anguish  of  this  crushing  blow;  but  after  a  time  it  occurred  to  me  that  there 
were  many  mothers  who  had  sons  languishing  on  sick  beds,  and  I  could  re- 
lieve them  in  various  ways,  so  I  took  up  my  work  again  in  a  spirit  consecrated 
by  my  great  sorrow,  and  continued  to  the  end." 

During  the  war  a  Newsboys'  Home  was  established  in  Washington, 
which  seemed  a  necessity  from  the  large  number  of  boys  who  came  with 
the  army  and  were  left  there  without  home  or  friends.  Mrs.  Blanchard  was 
chosen  on  the  Board  of  Managers,  and  she  was  a  most  efficient  officer  until 
the  Home  was  no  longer  needed. 

In  18G5  Mrs.  Blanchard  was  appointed  on  the  Board  of  Managers  of  the 
Association  for  the  Relief  of  Colored  Women  and  Children,  and  still  occupies 
the  position  of  Chairman  of  Clothing  Committee,  and  also  works  on  other 
committees. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  she  was  chosen  visitor  for  the  "Provident  Aid 
Society,"  at  the  time  when  there  were  countless  numbers  of  destitute  person 

21 


314  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

whom  the  war  had  drawn  to  the  city.  During  the  three  years  in  which  this 
society  existed,  Mrs.  Blanchard  caused  one  thousand  persons  to  be  relieved 
from  its  funds. 

Iu  1870  she  organized  the  Woman's  Christian  Association,  which  had 
for  its  object  the  improvement  of  the  moral,  social  and  religious  condition  of 
that  class  of  women,  in  the  District  of  Columbia,  who  needed  a  helping  hand 
to  save  them  from  want  and  degradation.     Mrs.  Blanchard  says : 

"From  the  time  of  its  organization  until  a  year  ago,  I  have  literally 
worked  night  and  day  for  the  'Home,'  and  trust  that  by  the  grace  of  God  I 
have  lightened  the  burden  of  many  a  sin-sick  and  suffering  sister." 

Mrs.  Blanchard  further  says  that  the  women  of  the  Universalist  parish 
in  Washington  paid  the  first  money,  $200  into  the  treasury. 


HELEN   LOUISE    GILSON. 

When  beginning  this  work  I  received  from  Mrs.  A.  B.  Grosh,  of  Wash- 
ington, D.  C,  the  injunction,  "Do  not  forget  'sweet  Helen  Gilson!'  For  that 
life,  so  full  of  inspiration  and  faith  and  so  brief,  was  crowded  with  choicest 
good  works,  and  should  be  more  fully  written  than  it  yet  has  been." 

She  was  born  in  Boston,  in  humble  circumstances,  in  1835.  She  was 
educated  in  the  public  schools  of  the  city,  and  at  the  early  age  of  seventeen 
years  was  appointed  head  assistant  in  the  old  Phillips'  grammar  school  for 
boys,  and  continued  there  until  her  health  failed.  She  was  a  frequent  visitor 
in  Chelsea,  Mass.,  where  Rev.  Charles  H.  Leonard,  D.D.,  was  settled  as  pas- 
tor for  many  years.  When  in  that  city  she  attended  his  church,  and  finally 
joined  it;  and  after  removing  to  Chelsea,  and  establishing  herself  as  gover- 
ness in  her  guardian's  (Hon.  Frank  B.  Fay's)  family,  she  became  a  constant 
attendant  and  a  very  efficient  teacher  in  the  Sunday-school,  a  position  she 
retained  until  the  war.  As  soon  as  hospitals  were  established,  at  the  very 
beginning  of  the  war,  in  1801,  Miss  Gilson  applied  to  Dorothea  Dix,  superior 
of  female  nurses,  for  a  position  where  she  could  work  for  the  sick  and  suffer- 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  315 

ing.  She  was  unsuccessful,  a  veiy  proper  rule  existing  which  prohibited 
nurses  entering  the  hospitals  until  they  had  arrived  at  a  required  age,  which 
Miss  Gilson  had  not  reached,  and  consequently  she  was  rejected.  She  went 
to  Washington  immediately  and  visited  the  hospitals,  and  in  May,  1802,  she 
began  her  sacred  work.  Mr.  Fay,  her  guardian,  also  volunteered  his  ser- 
vices, and  was  with  the  Anny  of  the  Potomac,  and  from  the  first  to  the  last 
1  tattle  he  rendered  most  valuable  voluntary  services. 

Miss  Gilson's  personal  appearance  at  the  time  when  she  assumed  her 
great  work,  was  remarkable.  She  was  slight  and  graceful  in  form,  with  feat- 
ures exquisitely  moulded;  a  voice  of  strange  power  in  conversation,  and  en- 
dowed with  a  marvelous  gift  of  song  that  seemed  to  the  listening  ear  of  the 
sick  or  wounded  like  the  voice  of  a  seraph.  No  human  being  ever  went  forth 
better  endowed  to  perform  the  blessed  work  than  did  she.  She  possessed 
the  "rare  heart,  head,  enthusiasm,  tact,  courage,  firmness  and  holy  will" 
that  were  needed  in  every  woman  who  was  to  mingle  with  aU  classes  of  men, 
sick  or  well,  good  or  bad,  upon  battle-fields  and  in  camp.  Her  dress  seemed 
to  blend  with  her  quiet  self,  being  of  the  simplest  gray  flannel.  Her  first 
work  in  the  army  is  described  by  herself  upon  being  asked  how  she  man- 
aged to  pass  through  the  barriers  of  official  service? 

"When  I  reached  the  White-House  Landing  I  saw  the  transport  'Wilson 
Small'  in  the  offing,  and  knew  that  it  was  full  of  wounded  men ;  so,  calling  a 
boatman,  and  directing  him  to  row  me  to  the  vessel,  I  went  on  board. 

"A  poor  feUow  was  undergoing  an  amputation;  and,  seeing  that  the  sur- 
geon wanted  help,  I  took  hold  of  the  limb  and  held  it  for  him.  The  surgeon 
looked  up,  at  first  surprised,  then  said,  'Thank  you,'  and  I  stayed  and  helped 
him.  Then  I  went  on  with  him  to  the  next  case;  he  made  no  objection,  and 
from  that  time  I  never  had  any  difficulty  there;  though  often,  in  a  change  of 
place,  I  would  have  to  make  my  way  afresh." 

Preparing  herself  for  efficiency,  she  attended  surgical  lectures  to  acquire 
technical  skill,  and  in  spite  of  her  rejection  by  Miss  Dix,  she  succeeded,  in 
May,  18(52,  in  gaining  admission  to  one  of  the  hospital  transports  of  the 
Sanitary  Commission,  on  the  Panmnkev  River,  and  soon  alter  she  was  able 
to  take  the  field.  She  was  of  great  service  in  MeClellan's  Peninsular  cam- 
paign, and  after  the  seven  days'  disastrous  battles  of  the  Chickahominy,  all 


316  OUR    WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

the  powers  of  her  frail  hody  were  brought  into  requisition.  She  had  the 
courage  to  undertake  a  superhuman  amount  of  labor,  and  strength  was  given 
her  to  perform  all  she  had  undertaken.  After  Pope's  accession  to  McClel- 
lan's  command,  Miss  Gilson  wrote  home,  expressing  in  familiar  language  her 
unpremeditated  thoughts.  Mrs.  Clapp,  in  "Old  and  New"  for  April  and  May, 
1872,  quotes  largely  from  her  letters,  extracts  of  which  we  here  give. 

"The  more  this  experience  comes  to  me,  the  more  I  am  lifted  into  the 
upper  ether  of  peace  and  rest.  I  am  stronger  in  soul  and  healthier  in  body, 
yet  I  never  worked  harder  in  my  life. 

"Washington,  September,  1862.  The  corridors  of  the  Capitol  are  full 
of  beds,  and  every  church  and  other  available  place  will  be  crowded  with  our 
wounded  men.  Our  women  everywhere  will  surely  devote  all  possible  time 
to  this  great  claim. 

•*•**#**** 

"The  sick  and  wounded  are  lying  all  along  our  route  in  barns,  neglected 
and  filthy,  their  wounds  all  alive  with  vermin.  No  shirts  or  drawers  have 
yet  been  received,  though  urgently  needed.  Stores  have  to  be  transported 
from  Frederick,  nineteen  miles  by  wagon,  a  slow  process.  I  have  drawn 
corn  starch  and  liquors  from  the  'Commission,'  and  have  prepared  gallons  of 
corn  starch  to  feed  the  poor  fellows  shot  in  the  mouth  and  throat.  I  fed  one 
man  yesterday,  who  had  lain  three  days  among  the  dead  on  the  field.  I  have 
been  too  busy  to  write  before ;  have  slept  in  an  ambulance  or  barn  for  several 
nights. 

"Antietam,  21st. — We  remained  at  the  hospital  till  afternoon,  minister- 
ing to  the  sick  and  wounded.  Such  horrible  wounds!  There  were  not 
enough  able-bodied  men  to  bury  the  dead.  Amputations  were  going  on, 
and  we  were  assisting  by  feeding  the  famishing. 

*****  *  *  * 

"I  came  to  Washington  last  evening  to  see  about  supplies.     Our  men  at 
Keedysville  have  been  full  of  vermin  for  want  of  clean  clothes ;  in  one  hos- 
pital erysipelas  and  hospital  gangrene  broke  out.     The  men  were  so  filthy!— 
imploring  us  incessantly  for  shirts  and  drawers  and  socks,  and  oh,  there  is 
such  joy  when  they  get  clean  handkerchiefs  with  cologne.     I  have  been  round 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  917 

among  the  men  in  all  the  hams,  making  gallons  of  corn  starch,  and  feeding 
the  worst  cases  of  wounded;  those  with  eyes  shot  out,  tongues  shot  away, 
and  wounds  in  the  brain.  I  dressed  live  wounds  for  a  rebel  lieutenant,  and 
then  he  hegged  me  to  'take  the  hest  care  of  him,  that  he  might  get  hack  and 
fight  us  again !' 

"  When  1  arrived  on  the  battle-field,  men  were  lying  in  all  directions, 
the  dying  and  the  dead.  With  so  much  to  do  for  the  living,  we  coidd  only 
pass  the  dying  by,  who  were  past  all  earthly  healing.  I  may  not  describe 
the  held.     Its  horrors  no  tongue  can  tell. 

"Three  thousand  have  already  heen  buried,  yet  you  could  hardly  advance 
a  dozen  paces  without  stepping  upon  the  dead.  The  doctors  tell  me  I  ought 
not  to  stoop  over  the  men  to  feed  them;  but  1  must  do  it;  it  is  so  much  more 
satisfying  to  them,  and  so  much  more  like  the  home  ministry. 

"It  is  Sunday  night,  and  I  am  writing  by  my  ration  of  candle,  a  small 
piece. 

"I  have  had  a  busy,  busy  day.  Let  me  give  you  an  account  of  it.  This 
morning  we  rose  at  reveille,  and  immediately  proceeded  to  the  hospital,  which 
is  in  two  barns  just  across  the  way.  Having  but  one  basin  and  sponge  for 
the  washing  of  seventy-five  sick  men,  you  can  imagine  the  operation  a  long 
one ;  especially  as  I  feel  inclined  to  be  so  unreasonable  as  to  insist  that  fever 
patients  should  have  clean  feet.  This  being  over,  next  comes  the  breakfast; 
and,  considering  that  we  have  but  one  old  tin  dipper  to  about  every  six  men, 
this  process  also  is  a  slow  one.  A  little  corn  starch  or  gruel  must  be  made 
for  the  sickest;  then,  in  many  cases,  they  must  be  fed,  and  I  find  their  appe- 
tite is  much  improved  by  a  pleasant  chat  during  the  process.  Then,  while 
Mrs.  H.  was  preparing  raspberry  vinegar,  or  some  other  cooling  drink,  I  went 
to  the  men,  bathing  their  heads  with  hay-rum,  and  writing  letters  for  those 
who  were  most  ill.  I  have  several  patients  who  are  bein^  doctored  for  home- 
sickness (nostalgia),  and  I  make  it  a  business  to  talk  with  such  men  half  an 
hour  each  day.  It  has  a  wonderfully  cheering  effect.  Then  comes  the  din- 
ner, another  long  process;  and  after  that  a  little  nap  for  the  boys;  then  a 
chapter,  some  songs  and  a  few  words  of  cheer,  with  constant  calls  for  care, 
meanwhile. 

"Nov.  2,  18G2,  Pleasant  Valley,  Md. — The  valley  was  bathed  this  morn- 


318  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

ing  in  the  Autumn  light,  but  my  heart  was  dreary  and  desolate.  Nine  hun- 
dred sick  here,  and  I  could  not  find  a  place  either  for  myself  or  stores. 
Bustle  and  confusion  everywhere ;  the  army  marching  or  cannonading  in  the 
distance.  Besides  looking  after  myself  and  stores,  I  have  to  provide  forage 
for  our  two  horses,  and  rations  for  the  dinner;  and  most  of  all,  the  sick  must 
be  cared  for. 


"I  have  been  all  day  with  a  church  full  of  fever  cases.  What  think  you 
was  brought  them  for  dinner?  Salt  beef  boiled  (very  fat  at  that),  hard-tack 
and  pea-soup !  Thanks  to  our  Chelsea  friends,  I  could  supply  crackers  for 
the  most  delicate.  After  dinner  I  was  chaplain  again,  sang,  prayed  and 
tallied  with  the  men.  I  could  not  have  asked  a  more  attentive  audience. 
When  I  finished  there  were  tears  in  many  eyes. 

"How  I  wish  that  some  one  abler  than  myself  could  have  spoken  to 
these  sick  and  weary  souls !  You  can  not  imagine  how  receptive  the  soul  of 
a  soldier  is,  who  is  prostrate  and  suffering.  Then  is  the  opportunity  for  in- 
fluence, to  talk  with  him  of  home,  of  his  errors,  and  of  the  temptations  of 
the  army." 

Notwithstanding  the  strict  rules  necessary  to  the  proper  distribution  of 
supplies,  special  privileges  were  accorded  to  her,  and  she  was  liberally  sup- 
plied with  vast  amounts  of  stores,  and  permitted  to  exercise  entire  control 
over  their  distribution. 

Miss  Gilson  reached  Gettysburg  just  as  the  great  contest  closed.  Rev. 
Dr.  H.  W.  Bellows,  who  saw  her  wonderful  work  on  that  dreadful  time,  de- 
scribes her  with  his  eloquent  pen : 

"One  woman,  young  .and  fair,  but  grave  and  earnest,  clothed  in  purity 
and  mercy — the  only  woman  on  that  whole  vast  earn}) — moved  in  and  out 
of  the  hospital  tents,  speaking  some  tender  words,  giving  some  restoring  cor- 
dial, holding  the  hand  of  a  dying  boy,  or  receiving  the  last  words  of  a  hus- 
band for  his  widowed  wife.  I  can  never  forget  how,  amid  scenes  which 
under  ordinary  circumstances  no  woman  could  have  appeared  in  without 
gross  indecorum,  the  holy  pity  and  purity  of  this  angel  of  mercy  made  her 
presence  seem  as  fit  as  though  she  had  indeed  dropped  out  of  heaven.     The 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  819 

men  themselves;  sick  or  well,  afl  seemed  awed  and  purified  by  such  a  resi- 
dent among  them. 

"When  we  had  exhausted  the  little  store  of  comforts  we  had  brought 
with  us,  one  of  the  sufferers  said  to  Miss  Gilson,  'Ma'am,  can't  you  sing  us 
;i  little  hymn?'  'Oh,  yes!'  she  answered;  'I'll  sing  you  a  song  that'll  do  for 
either  side;'  and  there,  in  the  midst  of  that  band  of  neglected  sufferers,  she 
stood,  and  with  a  look  of  heavenly  pity  and  earnestness,  her  eyes  raised  to 
God,  sang,  'When  this  Cruel  War  is  Over,'  in  a  clear,  pleading  voice  that 
made  me  remove  my  hat,  and  long  to  cast  myself  upon  my  knees.  Sighs 
and  groans  ceased ;  and,  while  the  song  went  on,  pain  seemed  charmed  away. 
The  moment  it  ceased,  one  poor  fellow,  who  had  lost  his  right  arm,  raised 
his  left  and  said,  '0  ma'am !  I  wish  I  had  my  other  arm  back,  if  it  was  only 
to  clap  my  hands  for  your  song!'  " 

In  October,  1863,  Miss  Gilson  took  a  brief  respite  home,  and  in  Novem- 
ber went  with  Mr.  Fay  to  Folly  Island,  where  during  all  the  Winter  she  ex- 
ercised her  rare  executive  ability  and  marvellous  power  of  ministration  among 
the  sick  and  wounded,  in  the  Department  of  South  Carolina.  In  the  early 
Spring  of  18G-4  she  returned  to  her  chosen  field  in  the  Army  of  the  Potomac. 
In  May  came  the  onset  under  Grant.  The  battle  of  the  Wilderness  filled 
Fredericksburg  with  sick  and  wounded.     May  13th  Miss  Gilson  writes: 

"The  heart  revolts  at  the  thought  of  describing  the  state  of  things  here. 
The  sights  are  terrible;  and  the  air  is  heavy  with  the  horrible  odor,  not  from 
the  wounded  alone,  but  from  the  accumulation  of  filth  about  the  city.  Every 
church,  store  and  dwelling  is  filled  with  the  wounded,  and  they  are  constantly 
arriving  from  the  front,  twelve  miles  from  here.  The  slaughter  is  horrible, 
and  the  bravery  of  our  men  beyond  comparison ;  not  only  the  impulsive  cour- 
age of  the  battle-field,  but  the  calmer  and  more  quiet  courage  of  men  content 
to  lie,  as  they  are  lying,  on  the  hard  floors,  after  severe  and  painful  amputa- 
tions, and  not  a  pad  or  soft  pillow  for  their  terrible  wounds. 

"It  is  midnight  now;  the  patients  are  asleep,  and  we  are  awaiting  the 
arrival  of  ambulances  from  the  front,  with  our  wounded  from  the  battle  of 
yesterday.  Every  hour  is  important,  but  with  every  victory  come  sad  tidings 
of  the  fall  of  some  of  our  best  and  bravest  men." 

Reed  in  his  "Hospital  Life"  says 


320  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

"One  afternoon,  just  before  the  evacuation  of  Fredericksburg,  when  the 
atmosphere  of  our  rooms  was  close  and  foul,  and  we  were  longing  for  a 
breath  of  our  cooler  Northern  air,  and  the  men  were  moaning  in  pain  or 
restless  with  fever,  and  our  hearts  were  sick  with  pity  for  the  sufferers,  I 
heard  a  light  step  upon  the  stairs,  and,  looking  up,  I  saw  a  young  lady  enter, 
who  brought  with  her  such  an  atmosphere  of  calm  and  cheerful  courage,  so 
much  freshness,  such  an  expression  of  gentle,  womanly  sympathy,  that  her 
mere  presence  seemed  to  revive  the  drooping  spirits  of  the  men,  and  to  give  a 
new  power  of  endurance  through  the  long  and  painful  hours  of  suffering.  First 
with  one,  then  at  the  side  of  another;  a  friendly  word  here,  a  gentle  nod  and 
smile  there;  a  tender  sympathy  with  each  prostrate  sufferer,  a  sympathy 
which  could  read  in  his  eyes  his  longing  for  home-love  and  for  the  presence 
of  some  absent  one — in  those  few  minutes  hers  was  indeed  an  angel  minis- 
try. Before  she  left  the  room  she  sang  to  them,  first  some  stirring  na- 
tional melody,  then  some  sweet  or  plaintive  hymn  to  strengthen  the  heart, 
and  I  remember  how  the  notes  penetrated  to  every  part  of  the  building. 
Soldiers  with  less  severe  wounds,  from  the  rooms  above,  began  to  crawl  out 
into  the  entry,  and  men  from  below  crept  up  on  their  hands  and  knees,  to 
catch  every  note,  and  to  receive  of  the  benediction  of  her  presence,  for  such 
it  was  to  them.  Then  she  went  away.  I  did  not  know  who  she  was,  but  I 
was  as  much  moved  and  melted  as  any  soldier  of  them  all.  This  is  my  first 
reminiscence  of  Helen  Gilson." 

With  the  progress  of  our  army  and  the  change  of  policy  towards  the 
negroes,  they  flocked  to  our  fines,  in  great  numbers  for  protection  and  care. 
A  writer  thus  describes,  in  "Old  and  New,"  a  scene  in  which  Miss  Gilson 
must  have  appeared  to  the  liberated  bondmen  like  the  angel  of  light  she  was : 

"Our  steamer  was  anchored  in  the  river.  A  hundred  vessels  were  there, 
waiting  orders  to  move.  Night  came  on.  There  were  gleaming  signals  all 
about  us,  and  a  thousand  colored  lights  were  reflected  in  the  water.  In  the 
distance  we  could  hear,  low  and  soft,  the  first  notes  of  the  negroes'  evening 
hymn.  Impassioned  and  plaintive  it  came  on,  increasing  in  volume,  until 
the  whole  chorus  broke  out  into  one  of  those  indescribably  wild,  fervid  melo- 
dies, of  which  it  is  impossible  to  resist  the  impression,  until  it  melted  away 
into  the  subdued  moanings  of  a  few  who  were  charged  with  the  refrain. 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  821 

Our  boat  was  soon  lowered,  and  idled  with  an  eager  company  who  were  im- 
patient to  reach  the  negro  barge  before  their  service  was  over.  Clambering 
up  the  sides  of  the  great  steamer,  we  found  them  just  settling  down  to  sleep; 
but,  as  we  moved  about  among  them,  there  were  enough  who  were  willing  to 
repeat  their  hymn.  .  .  Under  the  nickering  of  our  single  light  it  was  a 
picture  indeed.  Their  countenances  were  all  aglow  with  the  passion  of  their 
song,  and,  as  I  stood  looking  upon  that  sea  of  uplifted  faces,  1  ilaught 
that  there  was  hardly  an  emotion  which  could  be  awakened  by  intense  relig- 
ious feeling,  that  did  not  find  expression  there.  .  .  When  their  song  had 
ceased,  Miss  Gilson  addressed  them.  She  pictured  the  reality  of  freedom, 
told  them  what  it  meant,  and  what  they  had  to  do.  No  longer  would  there 
lie  a,  master  to  deal  out  the  peck  of  corn,  no  longer  a  mistress  to  care  for 
the  old  people  or  the  children.  They  were  now  to  wrork  for  themselves,  pro- 
vide for  their  own  sick,  and  support  their  own  infirm,  but  all  this  was  to  be 
done  under  new  conditions.  No  overseer  was  to  stand  over  them  with  the 
whip,  for  their  new  master  was  the  necessity  of  earning  their  daily  bread, 
and  very  soon  higher  motives  would  come.  Then,  in  the  simplest  language, 
she  explained  the  difference  between  their  former  relations  with  their  then 
masters,  and  their  new  relations  with  the  Northern  people,  showing  that 
labor  here  was  voluntary,  and  that  they  coidd  only  expect  to  secure  land  era- 
ployeis  by  doing  faithfully  all  they  had  to  do.  Then,  after  enforcing  truth- 
fulness, neatness  and  economy,  she  said: 

"  'You  know  that  the  Lord  Jesus  died  and  rose  again  for  you.  You 
love  to  sing  his  praise,  and  to  draw  near  to  him  in  prayer.  But  remember 
that  this  is  not  all  of  religion.  You  must  do  right,  as  well  as  pray  right. 
Your  lives  must  be  full  of  kind  deeds  towards  each  other,  full  of  gentle  and 
loving  affection,  full  of  unselfishness  and  truth;  this  is  true  piety.  Youmust 
make  Monday  and  Tuesday  just  as  good  and  pure  as  Sunday  is,  remember- 
ing that  God  looks  not  oidy  at  your  prayers  and  your  emotions,  but  at  the 
way  you  live  and  speak  and  act,  every  hour  of  your  lives.' 

"Then  she  sang  Whittier's  appropriate  hymn: 

"'Oh,  praise  an'  tanks,  de  Lord  he  i-onae 

To  set  de  people  free  : 
And  massa  t ink  it  day  of  doom, 

And    we   of  jubilee. 


322  OUB   WOMAN    WORKERS . 

De  Lord  dat  heap  de  Red  Sea  wabes, 

He  just  as  strong  as  den ; 
He  say  de  word ;  last  night  we  slabes. 

To-day  de  Lord's  free  men.' 

"Here  were  a  thousand  people  breathing  their  first  free  air;  they  were 
new-born,  with  the  delicious  sense  of  freedom.  They  listened  with  moist- 
ened eyes  to  every  word  which  concerned  their  future,  and  felt  that  its  utter- 
ance came  from  a  heart  which  could  embrace  them  aU  in  its  sympathies. 

"As  she  spoke  the  circle  grew  larger,  and  the  people  pressed  around  her 
more  eagerly.  It  was  all  a  part  of  their  new  life.  They  welcomed  it;  and,  by 
every  expression  of  gratitude  to  her,  they  showed  how  desirous  they  were  to  learn. 
Those  who  were  present  can  never  forget  the  scene — a  thousand  dusky  faces, 
expressive  of  such  fervency  and  enthusiasm,  their  large  eyes  filled  with  tears, 
answering  to  the  throbbing  heart  below,  all  dimly  outlined  by  the  flickering 
rays  of  a  single  lamp.  And  when  it  was  over  we  felt  that  we  could  under- 
stand better  our  relations  to  them,  and  the  new  duties  which  this  great  hour 
had  brought  upon  us." 

At  the  battle  of  Cold  Harbor,  June  7th,  Miss  Gilson  describes  her  hos- 
pitals at  White  House : 

"This  White  House  is  a  tremendous  field.  We  are  working  night  and 
day.  When  we  think  of  preparing  for  a  night's  rest,  heavy  ambulance-trains 
arrive  loaded  with  these  poor,  suffering  men,  helpless  and  broken,  the  dead 
among  the  living.  The  transportation  over  fifteen  miles  of  bad  roads  in 
army  wagons  is  worse  than  death,  they  say.  .  .  We  make  twenty  or 
thirty  gallons  of  milk  punch  at  a  time,  and  immense  caldrons  of  soup.  But 
there  is  no  end." 

Our  army  crossed  the  James,  and  fronted  Petersburg.  Before  the  army 
was  in  position,  Miss  Gilson,  accompanied  by  Hon.  F.  B.  Fay  and  a  part  of 
the  auxiliary  corps  of  the  Sanitary  Commission,  were  in  sight  of  the  intrench - 
ments,  in  preparation  for  the  dreadful  scenes  impending.  The  Battle  began 
before  the  medical  supplies  of  the  army  arrived,  and  her  stores  were  of  im- 
mense value  to  many  of  the  wounded.     June  7,  she  wrote: 

July  8.  —  "It  is  hot,  and  we  are  smothered  by  the  dust.  The  day  has 
been  a  hard  one.  My  men  in  the  kitchen  are  down  with  fever.  1  have 
stood  all  day  over  a  raging  stove,  making  soups  and  gruels  for  two  hundred 


HELEN    LOUISE    GIL  SON.  323 

men ;  then  later,  tea  for  a  hundred  more,  besides  the  diet  for  the  convales- 
cents. Yet  I  have  found  the  time  to  visit  the  wards,  to  read  to  the  men, 
listen  to  complaints,  and  straighten  out  abuses.  Poor  fellows!  they  are  full 
of  their  'miseries,'  their  special  term  for  all  pain.  They  are  like  children  in 
one's  hands.     These  details  only  show  you  how  much  there  is  to  do." 

July  12. — .  .  .  .  "Many  of  our  friends  have  fainted  at  their  posts,  and 
have  been  sent  home  with  typhoid  fever.  But  so  far  I  seem  to  keep  my 
strength." 

She  continued  steadfastly  at  her  work  through  the  Autumn  and  Winter, 
and  in  the  Spring  of  1805  wrote: 

"I  am  tired,  tired,  chronically  tired.  Tired  to  the  very  marrow  of  my 
bones.  Last  night  I  tried  to  answer  your  letter,  but  dropped  asleep,  pen  in 
hand.  Last  evening,  from  the  special  diet,  I  fed  three  divisions  of  the  hos- 
pital. Each  case  was  catered  for  separately.  Each  day  I  have  to  decide 
how  much  beef  or  mutton  is  needed,  order  it,  waste  nothing,  save  the  pieces 
of  bread  for  puddings,  etc.,  and  at  the  same  time  the  adaptations  necessary 
in  all  the  cases  arising  in  such  a  vast  hospital,  keeping  a  wholesome  and 
pleasant  atmosphere — make  the  brain  as  well  as  the  hand  weary. 

March  17,  1865.— "There  are  stages  in  our  physical  and  mental  devel- 
opment when  we  think  much,  not  about,  but  upon  ourselves.  We  need 
these  lessons  while  we  are  learning  to  live.  After  that,  an  unconscious  growth 
goes  on;  and  with  an  eye  ever  raised  to  Christ,  our  pattern,  and  to  heaven, 
our  home,  we  lose  ourselves  in  the  attaining;  and  are  hardly  conscious  of  in- 
dividual life,  which  is  swallowed  up  in  doing  and  living  for  others.  From 
this  outside  life,  comes  inward  peace,  sweet  rest,  which  is  more  than  ecstacy 
to  the  weary  soul.  Intense  joy,  intense  sorrow,  wears  the  soul;  but  for  the 
peace  that  comes  from  looking  Christ  ward  and  heavenward,  let  its  seek." 

19th. — "You  spoke  of  spiritual  nearness.  I  have  always  believed  in  it, 
and  last  Sunday  I  was  thinking  of  you  particularly,  as  the  day  of  your  motto. 
It  is  a  great  comfort  to  believe  in  the  spritual  presence  of  those  we  love, 
either  in  this  world  or  the  other,  when  we  are  homesick  and  heartsick  here; 
and  sweeter  still,  in  the  nearness  and  communion  of  One  who  abideth  ever 
and  always,  ministering  to  our  loneliness,  even  before  we  can  send  up  our 
petitions. 


324  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

...  "I  wish  I  could  hear  the  robins  or  some  spring-bird;  it  is  so  lonely 
without  them." 

As  the  war  drew  near  its  close,  her  hfe  approached  its  end.  She  enter- 
ed Richmond,  and  had  her  quarters  at  a  hospital  in  Camp  Lee,  in  May,  1865. 
She  returned  soon  after  to  Massachusetts,  with  health  broken.  On  her  last 
birthday  she  wrote : 

"Life  has  been  long  to  me,  but  God  has  given  me  the  sunshine  of  sweet, 
dear  friendships.  I  thank  him  for  the  joy  and  the  sorrow.  I  love  humanity, 
the  world*,  and  I  want  to  live  that  I  may  serve  and  be  happy  through  my 
work. 

"I  was  reading  for  my  comfort  to-day  the  fifty-fourth  chapter  of  Isaiah. 
It  is  beautiful,  and  I  have  taken  to  my  heart  that  sweet  promise,  'For  a 
small  moment  have  I  forsaken  thee,  but  with  great  mercies  will  I  gather 
thee.'     I  will  trust." 

Rev.  W.  H.  Channing  gives  in  Mrs.  Clapp's  memorial  the  following 
reminiscence : 

"I  first  saw  her  standing  at  an  open  tent  door,  with  two  large  tin  ves- 
sels of  farina  and  soup  before  her,  supplying  nurses  who  were  carrying  re- 
freshments to  the  wounded,  after  the  first  disastrous  defeat  at  Fredericks- 
burg. Never  have  I  forgotten,  and  never  shall  I  forget,  the  light  of  her  eyes, 
and  her  smile  when,  looking  up,  she  gladly  greeted  me  as  a  fellow-helper; 
that  glance,  and  her  first  words,  revealed  to  me  her  generous,  devoted  heart. 

"What  radiance  of  womanly  sweetness  she  spread  around  her  by  her 
presence,  the  music  of  her  voice,  her  gracious  loveliness !  How  raised  above 
all  frivolous  folly  she  seemed  by  earnest  straightforwardness,  transparent 
sincerity  and  commanding  conscience !  It  was  most  noticeable  how  soldiers 
and  officers,  nurses  and  surgeons,  grew  courteous,  affable,  gentle,  refined, 
under  the  charm.  Utterly  unconscious  of  her  own  attractive  beauty,  she 
moved  to  and  fro,  clad  in  a  spotless  robe  of  innocence,  like  a  little  child  or 
a  guardian  spirit.  An  influence  went  out  through  look,  manner,  gesture, 
benign,  calm,  purifying,  till,  unaware  almost  the  rough  were  softened,  and 
the  coarse  made  clean,  and  the  brave  and  manly  quickened  to  finer  heroism, 
by  reverence  for  noble  womanhood.  And  what  sagacity,  good  sense,  wis- 
dom, marked  the  action  and  Bpeech  of  this  seemingly  untaught  and  inexperi- 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  325 

encecl  country-girl!  One  marveled  at  her  well-ordered  arrangements,  her 
forethought,  prompt  adaptation,  skill,  deftness,  tact.  Whence  had  she 
gained  this  shrewd  discernment  of  character,  this  power  of  managing  others 
hy  honest  directness  of  speech  and  dealing,  this  presence  of  mind  in  emer- 
gencies, this  energy  to  turn  evil  into  good,  and  make  the  best  of  all  condi- 
tions? 

"Do  you  remember  that  Sunday  evening  in  the  gloaming,  when  she 
came,  with  her  attendant,  on  horseback,  to  the  Rowe-House  Hospital  on  the 
Plains,  and  at  our  request,  standing  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  sang  hymn 
after  hymn  to  our  poor,  wounded  fellows'?  They  said  it  was  like  voices  of 
angels.  Ay!  it  was  so.  She  stands  for  us  now  at  the  head  of  the  golden 
stairway  to  the  heavens,  and  the  voice  is  ever,  'Nearer,  my  God,  to  thee; 
Nearer  to  thee.'  " 

I  wrote  to  Dr.  Bellows,  referring  to  what  he  had  said  of  Miss  Gilson  in 
his  account  of  her,  after  the  battle  of  Gettysburg,  and  asked  him  if  I  could 
not  have  something  concerning  this  lovely  woman,  fresh  from  his  pen  and 
warm  from  his  heart,  and  he  generously  responded  with  the  following : 

Deak  Madam:-  "Walpoee,  N.  H.,  July  16,  1880. 

Your  letter  of  July  12th,  asking  me  to  write  you  freely  about  Miss  Helen 
Gilson,  comes,  I  fear,  to  a  very  exhausted  witness,  who  has  already  publicly 
said  all  the  little  of  interest  he  knew  about  that  lovely  woman.  She  gave 
the  freshness  of  her  young  life  to  the  cause  of  the  Union,  in  following  up  the 
battle  fields  of  our  dreadfid  yet  glorious  war,  that  she  might  be  a  ministering 
angel  in  hospitals  and  among  the  wounded  and  dying.  She  was  so  young, 
so  beautiful,  so  delicate  in  aspect  and  maidenly  ways,  that  she  stood  out 
among  the  equally  noble  and  patriotic  women  who  were  nurses  in  the  war, 
as  something  specially  angelic.  Doubtless,  there  were  equally  youthful  and 
equally  consecrated  maidens  at  work  elsewhere  (for  the  field  was  too  wide  for 
any  single  observer  to  note  all  who  adorned  it  with  charity  and  mercy),  but 
I  never  happened  to  meet  any  woman  of  Helen  Gilson's  loveliness,  upon  the 
battle  field,  or  in  the  hospitals.  Her  I  have  met  in  scenes  that  it  required 
all  the  bravest  man's  courage  to  even  look  upon,  amid  the  marred  and  bleed- 
ing victims  of  artillery  and  musketry,  and  of  the  surgeon's  kindly  cruel  knife. 


326  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

I  have  seen  her  when  she  was  the  only  woman  in  camp,  moving  about  among 
hiuidreds  of  men,  half-clothed,  and  with  scores  lying  about  still  in  the  gore  of 
untended  wounds,  with  rows  of  others  waiting  for  the  relief  of  amputations. 
I  have  seen  her  holding  a  poor,  rough  soldier's  hand  (the  representative  of 
mother,  wife,  sister,  daughter),  while  the  doctor  cut  and  sawed  off  his  leg  or 
arm,  or  probed  his  wound.  And  I  observed,  without  exception,  such  a  rev- 
erence for  her  purity,  such  a  sanctity  around  her  innocence  in  the  eyes  and 
minds  of  the  soldiers,  that  it  consecrated  the  place,  and  made  all  that  would 
elsewhere  have  been  strange  and  unseemly,  lit  and  holy.  Miss  Gilson  had  a 
seraph's  voice,  and  she  used  her  gift  of  song  as  a  curative  and  cordial.  She 
could  while  away  the  anguish  of  wounds  with  this  magical  voice.  Never 
was  personal  beauty  a  more  consecrated  instrument  of  mercy.  I  never  wit- 
nessed the  least  consciousness  in  her  of  her  personal  charms,  but  I  have  seen 
their  triumph,  when  even  those  whose  homesickness  and  pangs  they  soothed 
or  banished,  did  not  suspect  what  calmed  and  blest  them. 

"I  never  met  Helen  Gilson  after  the  war,  until  one  day  riding  in  the  cars 
between  Fitchburg  and  Boston,  a  lady  entered  and  took  the  vacant  seat  by 
my  side.  Occupied  with  a  book,  and  not  suffering  from  curiosity,  I  rode  on 
twenty  miles  without  a  suspicion  who  or  what  the  lady  was.  But  suddenly 
her  voice  arrested  my  attention,  and  in  a  moment  we  were  mutually  engross- 
ed with  old  recollections  and  sympathies,  such  as  only  those  who  recall  to- 
gether the  most  tragic  and  affecting  scenes,  can  have.  This  was  not  long 
before  her  lamented  death.  Already  the  tremendous  strain  on  her  heart  and 
nerves  and  muscles  had  changed  her  sadly,  and  it  was  no  wonder  that  one 
who  had  lived  a  decade  of  years  in  every  single  year  of  the  war,  should  end 
her  life  in  what  for  others  would  be  a  premature  decay. 

"I  love  to  think  of  her  only  as  I  myself  saw  her,  and  nothing  could 
deepen  the  love,  admiration  and  reverence  with  which  her  memory  lives  in 
my  heart,  and  in  my  mind's  eye  her  face,  in  my  mind's  ear  her  voice,  and 
in  my  soid  the  sanctified  purity  of  her  spirit. 

"Very  respectfully  yours, 

"H.  W.  Bellows." 

Reed's  "Hospital  Life"  is  dedicated  "To  Hon.  Frank  B.  Fay,  the  hu- 
mane and  Christian  gentleman,  the  friend  of  the  soldier  in  camp  and  in  hos- 


HELEN    LOUISE    GILSON.  327 

pita],  and  of  the  suffering  everywhere."  And  the  following  is  Mr.  Fay's 
tribute  to  Helen  L.  Gilson: 

"To  the  memory  of  one  whose  years,  measured  by  the  sands  of  time, 
were  few;  not  so  when  reckoned  by  the  value  of  the  loyal  and  royal  service 
she  performed. 

"The  writer  knew  her  well  in  the  home,  in  society,  and  in  the  more 
trying  experiences  of  the  army  hospital  and  in  the  field,  and  in  each  position 
and  in  each  relation  he  felt  her  goodness  of  heart  and  greatness  of  soul.  He 
loved  her  for  what  she  lias  been  to  those  near  and  dear  to  him,  for  what  she 
has  done  for  others,  and  for  what  she  has  tried  to  be  to  all. 

"With  his  family  there  was  no  kinship  of  blood,  but  there  grew  up  in 
those  years  of  association  with  them  in  that  home  a  higher  relationship  of 
reciprocal  affection,  appreciation  and  trust. 

"Her  thoughtfulness,  her  gentleness,  her  dignity,  and  her  playfulness, 
showed  the  strong  contrasts  in  her  nature,  which  so  singularly  combined  the 
child  and  the  woman. 

"She  was  charitable  in  judgment,  ready  to  forgive  those  whose  lips  had 
questioned  her  fidelity  or  the  purity  of  her  motives,  and  equally  ready  to  con- 
fess her  faults. 

"She  often  said,  'true  affection  does  not  make  us  blind;  but,  although 
keenly  alive  to  the  errors  of  those  we  love,  we  can  the  more  readily  pardon.' 

"With  confidence  in  her  ability  to  work  in  responsible  positions,  she  was 
humble,  and  did  not  desire  notoriety,  declining  always  to  furnish  for  publi- 
cation any  history  of  her  army  life. 

"Her  faculty  in  arranging  a  hospital,  her  tact  in  managing  the  patients 
and  the  soldier  nurses,  her  ability  to  pray  and  sing  with  dying  men,  to  con- 
duct religious  and  funeral  ceremonies;  her  adaptation  to  circumstances,  her 
courage  in  hours  of  danger — all  fitted  her  for  the  service  she  performed. 

"Her  last  public  work,  in  lately  re-establishing  a  Colored  Orphans' 
Home  in  Richmond,  brought  her  in  contact  with  a  race  she  loved  so  well, 
and  afforded  her  another  opportunity  for  administrative  labor. 

"In  her  presence  the  profane  lip  was  silent,  and  she  won  the  respect 
and  love  alike  of  friend  and  stranger,  of  the  aged,  of  whom  she  was  so 
thoughtful,  and  of  the  young,  whom  she  so  readily  instructed  and  amused. 


328  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

"Loving  her  Savior,  she  loved  the  divinity  in  our  humanity,  and  be- 
lieved that  all  good  thoughts,  words,  deeds,  are  divine ;  that  we  are  but  the 
channel  through  which  they  flow,  and  that  the  divine  current  is  sure  to  de- 
posit in  our  hearts  the  seeds  of  constant  joy.     This  was  the  only  reward  she 

sought. 

"Thousands  who  saw  and  appreciated  her  work  in  the  army,  the  few 
who  were  associated  with  her  in  a  kindred  service,  and  other  thousands  who 
knew  her  only  through  her  offices  to  those  they  loved,  will  mourn  at  her 
translation.  Those  who  knew  her  best  and  loved  her  most  will  most  readily 
acquiesce  in  this  great  discipline ;  for  they  know  with  what  cheerful  faith  she 
entered  the  gateway  towards  which  she  had  so  often  looked,  and  how  willing 
she  will  be  to  wait  for  a  re-union  with  those  she  loved  on  earth,  while  we 
may  well  anticipate  her  welcome  above  by  those,  gone  before,  to  whom  she 

had  ministered."' 

"There  is  rest  for  the  weary." 

Miss  Gilson  died  in  Newton,  Mass.,  and  was  buried  from  the  Universal  - 
ist  church,  Chelsea,  and  her  remains  lie  in  Woodlawn  Cemetery.  The 
soldiers  raised  a  beautiful  monument  above  her  grave,  bearing  the  following 
inscription,  "Helen  L.  Gilson.  Born  Nov.  22,  1835;  died  April  20,  1868. 
A  tribute  from  soldiers  of  the  war  of  1861  to  1865,  for  self-sacrificing  labors 
in  the  army  hospitals."  The  monument  occupies  a  spot  on  Chapel  Hill,  the 
highest  land  in  Woodlawn  Cemetery,  Chelsea.  The  plat  of  ground  is  called 
the  "Field  of  Mercy,"  and  no  other  burial  has  been  made  in  it. 

Mr.  Fay  further  says,  "Her  grave  is'  decorated  by  the  soldiers  on 
'Memorial  Day.'  She  was  loved  by  them  and  all  who  knew  her.  Few  left 
so  sweet  a  memory." 

Her  married  name  was  Osgood.  Her  married  life  was  a  short  one,  and 
she  is  always  spoken  of  as  "Miss  Gilson,"  and  her  monument  was  so  in- 
scribed, acceptably  to  all  parties  interested  in  her  and  in  her  great  work. 

She  established  a  Colored  Home  at  Richmond,  Va.,  and  a  white  school 
at  the  South. 

There  was  no  woman  (unless  we  except  Clara  Barton)  among  the  many 
angels  of  mercy  that  ministered  to  our  sick  and  dying,  who  so  richly  deserves 
to  be  called  the  Florence  Nightingale  of  America  as  Helen  Gilson,  if  indeed 


MARY    T.    REED.  329 

these  twin  spirits  did  not  altogether  surpass  "Santa  Filomela."  In  length 
of  service,  number  of  battles  witnessed,  of  sick  and  wounded  cared  for,  as  in 
rare  accomplishments  of  person,  voice,  and  ability  to  minister  in  speech  and 
song,  and  in  that  true  magnetism  of  presence  that  made  her  seem  like  an 
angel  from  heaven — in  her  entire  record  during  our  cruel  war,  she  was 
surpassed  by  no  woman  whose  name  is  recorded,  and  it  is  a  blessed  thought 
that  her  views  of  God  and  man,  of  life  and  eternity,  inspired  and  sustained 
her  to  accomphsh  the  great  work  to  which  she  consecrated  her  young  life. 
Let  us  never  forget  or  cease  to  honor  the  name  of  this  Sister  of  Charity, 
Helen  Louise  Gilson,  who  will  always 

"  Stand 
In  the  great  history  of  the  laud, 
A  noble  type  of  good 
Heroic  womanhood," 


MAEY  T.  EEED 


Is  the  wife  of  Rev.  D.  M.  Reed,  one  of  our  popular  clergymen,  to  whom 
she  was  married  in  Piermont,  N.  H.,  in  1846.  Her  maiden  name  was  Thresh- 
er, and  she  was  born  in  Deerrield,  N.  H.,  and  received  a  fine  education  in 
her  native  State.  Mrs.  Reed  was  a  school-teacher,  and  at  one  time  taught 
in  our  seminary  at  Woodstock,  Vt.,  and  says  at  that  time  she  builded  better 
than  she  knew,  for  some  of  her  students  have  become  quite  eminent.  "Yet," 
she  adds,  "I  suspect  these  people,  many  of  them,  who  have  attained  emi- 
nence, will  rind  when  the  great  book  is  opened  that  the  Recording  Angel  has 
marked  them  lower  than  many  whose  names  were  never  heard  beyond  their 
quiet  neighborhood." 

Mrs.  Reed  has  written  and  published  enough  to  fill  a  large  volume.  Her 
published  correspondence  from  the  South,  and  indeed  from  different  parts  of 
our  country,  is  veiy  interesting.     In  her  travels  she  sees  and  appreciates  a1! 


330  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

the  charming  scenery,  and  transmits  her  .observations  to  paper  so  vividly  that 
readers  can  easily  imagine  that  instead  of  reading  her  letters  they  are  accom- 
panying her  in  her  rovings.  She  has  great  intuition,  and  detects  shams 
readily  in  men  or  women. 

Mrs.  Eeed  says,  "I  have  been  no  idler  in  the  vineyard,  have  done  my 
work  in  a  qniet,  humble  way,  yet  1  am  no  mother  in  Israol,  and  can  claim 
no  lot  or  part  among  the  great  workers.''  I  feel  that  I  have  no  right  to  per- 
mit Mrs.  Heed's  modesty  to  shut  her  out  from  among  our  "Woman  Workers." 
She  has  lectured  upon  different  subjects,  with  marked  ability.  The  home  of 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eeed  is  one  that  the  poet,  the  naturalist  or  the  wayfaring 
traveler  can  look  forward  to  for  enjoyment  and  rest. 

A  favorable  specimen  of  her  style  here  f ollows : 

IS   LIFE    WORTH   LIVING? 

"This  is  one  of  the  many  questions  recently  agitated  by  the  philosophers 
of  the  nineteenth  century.  It  is  a  new  way  of  putting  the  old,  old  question 
which  so  jjerplexed  Hamlet  ages  ago,  'To  be,  or  not  to  be.' 

"The  Pessimists  at  once  answer  in  the  negative.  The  Optimists  in  the 
affirmative.     Is  it  that  the  one  gets  so  much  more  out  of  life  than  the  other? 

"To  a  spectator  with  our  limited  f  acid  ties,  looking  down  upon  this  mun- 
dane sphere,  it  surely  must  seem  that  many  lives  are  not  worth  the  living, 
either  to  the  possessor  or  to  others,  unless  it  be  that  the  sorrows  and  burdens 
they  heap  upon  their  fellows  are  as  the  refiner's  fire,  to  purify.  It  must  be 
that  the  power  to  make  life  a  blessing  is  given  to  the  struggling  children  of 
earth.  Whose  fault  is  it  when  it  proves,  as  it  so  often  does,  to  be  otherwise? 
Were  it  possible  for  one  to  live  to  himself,  or  to  die  to  himself,  without  affect- 
ing the  well-being  of  others,  a  worthless  life  woidd  not  be  quite  so  dreadful 
as  it  is. 

"Was  not  tin'  individual  actuated  by  a  noble  ambition  who  said,  'Every 
day  of  my  life  I  want  to  make  somebody  glad  that  I  was  born.' 

"hois  not,  much  depend  upon  what  one  makes  the  chief  end  of  his  liv- 
ing? To  the  butterflies  of  fashion,  while  basking  in  the  sunshine  of  pros- 
perity, life  ni'iy  seem  pleasant  as  a  Summer  day  without  clouds.     But  when 


MARY    T.    REED.  331 

the  storm  gathers  and  the  tempests  heat  upon  their  poor,  frail,  gauzy  wings, 
they  droop  at  once,  and  the  question  under  consideration  is  then  answered 
in  the  negative. 

"Another  class  is  represented  by  the  bee.  They  are  too  busy  in  gather- 
ing sweets  from  every  flower,  in  laying  up  treasures  as  though  they  expected 
to  enjoy  them  here  forever,  to  speculate  much  on  the  philosophy  of  life. 
They  have  not  time  even  to  notice  their  neighbor  bending  under  the  weight 
of  heavy  burdens.  If  these  do  not  enjoy  the  highest  kind  of  happiness,  nei- 
ther have  they  gauged  the  depths  of  misery  and  sorrow. 

"According  to  the  doctrine  of  the  Buddhist,  human  existence  on  this 
earth  is  an  evil.  This  sect  numbers  about  two  hundred  and  ninety  millions. 
Many  Christians  call  it  a  vale  of  tears,  a  state  of  probation,  certainly  not 
worth  living  if  this  is  ah. 

"  'Whom  the  gods  love,  die  young.'  From  this,  if  the  gods  have  been 
correctly  reported,  it  is  evident  that  they  did  not  consider  this  hfe  worth  the 
living,  so  early  removed  their  favorites  to  a  better  one. 

"The  philosopher  has  speculated  and  puzzled  over  the  problems  of  life 
till  faith,  hope  and  love  have  perished  within  him.  Baffled  at  every  turn  he 
finally  gives  up  in  despair  these  enigmas  more  perplexing  than  the  riddle  of 
the  Sphynx. 

"But  those  who  accept  whatever  is  as  right  and  best,  are  the  most  to  be 
envied.  The  existence  of  evil  in  the  world,  which  has  so  taxed  the  faith 
and  baffled  the  intellect  of  philosophers  in  all  ages,  does  not  trouble  them. 

"What  can  the  Optimists  know  of  uiihappiness?  When  the  sun  disap- 
pears they  direct  their  gaze  with  delight  upon  the  glorious  firmament  studded 
with  stars.  When  the  light  and  splendor  of  these  luminaries  become  dim, 
or  quite  obscured  by  dense  clouds,  they  know  that  it  is  only  that  refreshing 
showers  may  fall  upon  the  thirsty  earth,  causing  it  to  bud  and  blossom  with 
beauty. 

"Perhaps  in  listening  to  celestial  harmonies  they  do  not  hear  the  dis- 
cords of  earth,  or  hearing,  think  with  the  poet  that 

"'All  discord  is  harmony  not  understood. 
All  partial  evil  universal  yood.'" 


332  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

MARY   T.   MOORE. 

One  of  the  many  unobtrusive,  devoted  and  saintly  women  of  our  church 
was  Mrs.  Mary  T.  Moore,  who  was  born  in  Sidney,  Me.,  in  1796.  Her 
maiden  name  was  Pierce.  She  was  married  in  1826,  in  Norridgewock,  Me. 
and  subsequently  lived  in  Portland,  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  and  Chicago,  111.  In 
1868  she  returned  to  Norridgewock,  where  she  died  Nov.  25,  1878,  in  her 
eighty-second  year.  Providentially  Mrs.  Moore  was  able  to  exercise  her  de- 
sire to  do  good.  Her  own  personal  expenses  she  kept  very  small,  and  gen- 
erously devoted  her  large  income  to  benevolent  uses.  Besides  numerous  gifts 
to  individuals,  she  was  very  liberal  to  her  church.  Lombard  University,  West- 
brook  Seminary,  the  Woman's  Centenary,  St.  Paid's  Church  and  other  de- 
nominational enterprises  were  her  beneficiaries.  Her  gifts  were  only  limited 
by  her  means.  The  writer  of  this  too  brief  and  inadequate  sketch  gratefully 
records  a  noble  act  of  which  she  received  the  benefit.  Her  name  should  be 
held  in  lasting  remembrance. 


ELSIE    A.    BURR, 

The  daughter  of  Atwell  and  Betsey  Burr,  of  La  Fox,  111.,  was  a  born 
Universahst.  She  not  only  tallied  about  it  and  wrote  about  it,  but  she  lived 
the  life  of  a  consecrated  Universalist  Christian.  She  was  a  Avoman  of  deep 
thought,  clear  brain  and  firm  purpose.  She  was  an  invalid  for  years,  and 
was  an  inmate  at  Dansville,  N.  Y.,  from  May,  1873,  when  she  repaired  to 
that  home  with  hope  for  improved  health.  She  remained  there  until  De- 
cember of  the  same  year,  when  she  was  informed  by  the  physician  what  she 
had  read  in  her  symptoms  that  she  coidd  live  but  a  short  time.  Her  reply 
was  that  of  a  Christian,  "If  I  am  to  die,  I  am  willing."  She  called  her  be- 
loved nephew  to  her,  and  with  comforting  and  soothing  words  prepared  him 
as  best  she  conld  for  the  sad  news. 

In  December,  1873,  the  following  notice  of  our  worthy  friend  appeared 


NANCY  THORNING  MONROE.  383 

in  the  New  Covenant.  "Our  sister  was  a  Universalist  Christian  in  every 
sense  of  the  word,  and  will  long  he  remenihered  hy  all  who  knew  her,  es- 
pecially the  poor,  whom  she  delighted  to  aid  hy  every  means  in  her  power. 
Deprived  of  the  privilege  of  attending  church  by  poor  health,  her  well-worn 
Bible  testifies  on  what  her  faith  was  founded.  She  was  a  contributor  to  the 
"Better  Covenant"  and  New  Covenant,  and  to  other  papers  and  periodicals. 


NANCY  THORNING  MONROE 

Is  a  name  familiar  to  most  reading  Universalists,  and  a  name  beloved 
by  them.  She  was  born  in  Littleton,  Mass.,  in  the  year  1820.  Her  maiden 
name  was  Thorning.  N.  Thorning  was  her  signature  in  the  "Repository," 
wliich  she  commenced  writing  for  at  the  early  age  of  sixteen,  and  continued 
her  contributions  until  that  magazine  ceased  to  exist.  "Sorrow  and  Joy" 
was  her  first  article  written  for  that  monthly  in  November,  1837.  Rev. 
Henry  Bacon,  then  the  editor  of  the  "Repository,"  hailed  with  much  pleas- 
ure this  new  writer,  the  promise  of  whose  early  days  has  been  more  than  ful- 
filled. Her  marriage,  a  few  years  later,  brought  editor  and  contributor  into 
close  family  relations,  standing  as  brother  and  sister  to  each  other,  for  sub- 
sequently she  was  married  to  Edwin  Monroe,  Jr.,  brother  of  Mrs.  E.  A. 
Bacon,  Emehne  R.  Pierce,  Faustina  Dennis  and  Martha  Brooks.  She  was 
bereaved  by  his  death,  Sept.  1,  1868,  when  he  was  fifty-six  years  of  age. 
Edwin  Monroe  was  a  man  honored  and  respected  by  the  entire  community, 
for  his  sterling  worth  and  upright  life.  He  was  the  founder,  and,  at  the  time 
of  his  death,  deacon  of  the  Universalist  church  of  his  town  and  its  firm  and 
devoted  friend. 

Twice  before  her  husband's  death  was  she  left  childless,  and  recently 
her  daughter,  Lilian  T.  (Hollander),  was  taken  from  her.  She  is  now  an  in- 
valid, and  we  regret  that  our  application  for  data  for  an  extended  sketch  of 
her  life  reached  her  at  a  time  when  illness  and  sorrow  had  unfitted  her  to 
respond,  except  very   briefly.     She  deserves  a  more  extended  tribute  than  1 


334  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

am  able  to  give,  for  Mrs.  Monroe  was  one  of  the  most  valued  of  the  sister- 
hood who  elevated  our  literature  into  prominence,  and  who  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  thepubhc  to  the  ability  of  the  women  of  our  church.  She  wrote  at 
much  length  and  with  commensurate  force  and  point.  A  series  of  continued 
articles  entitled  "The  Social  Observatory,"  and  another,  "Talks  in  My  Home," 
attracted  great  attention,  and  poems,  tales  and  sketches,  in  much  variety, 
flowed  from  her  pen.  We  give  an  extract  from  "A  Fear  for  the  Future,"  as 
a  specimen  of  her  prose  writings,  taken  from  the  "Eepository." 

"Intellectual  growth  in  woman,  requires  intellectual  growth  in  man. 
Only  the  narrow-minded  fear  the  former,  only  strongly  conservative  and  in- 
dolent natures  fear  the  bad  influence  upon  women  of  education,  cultivation 
and  intellectual  elevation.  It  is  more  than  idle,  aU  this  talk  of  'lustrous  eyes 
and  winning  dimples,'  giving  place  to  'blackened  faces  and  rough  heads,' 
and  needless  also  is  it  in  these  days  to  cite  instances  to  prove  the  contrary. 
There  is  a  blindness  so  obstinate  it  shuts  its  eyes  in  the  broad  sunlight  and 
avers  it  is  midnight  darkness.  Let  it  grope  its  way  along,  till  the  burning 
heat  of  the  noonday  sun  send  conviction  to  the  brain  which  nothing  else  can 
reach. 

"It  is  true  there  may  be  a  cultivation  of  the  head  and  intellect  at  the  ex- 
pense of  the  heart  and  the  affections,  but  we  have  yet  to  learn  that  women 
are  in  more  danger  of  this  than  men.  There  may  be,  too,  inharmonious  na- 
tures, ill-disciplined  minds  carried  away  by  one  idea,  mathematicians  and 
nothing  more,  artists  and  nothing  more,  politicians  and  nothing  more ;  more, 
this  is  an  evil,  but  why  we  should  fear  it  to  any  greater  extent  among  women 
than  men,  we  cannot  say.  Because  one  woman  may  chance  to  be 
wholly  absorbed  in  art  to  the  exclusion  of  most  womanly  proclivities,  must 
all  other  women,  no  matter  how  much  talent  and  inclination  may  incline 
them  that  way,  smother  all  such  aspirations?  Occasionally  from  the  ranks 
of  wives  and  mothers  we  can  spare  a  Harriet  Hosmer;  she  might  not  have 
filled  the  former  situations  well ;  that  of  artist  she  certainly  does.  The  world 
need  not  tremble  and  think  that  all  women  who  understand  the  simplest 
rules  of  art,  are  going  to  rush  madly  from  the  spheres  of  private  duty  and 
take  up  the  chisel. 

"There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  false  sentimentality  expended  upon  this 


NANCY  THORNING  MONROE.  335 

subject,  a  vast  deal  of  talk  of  woman's  mixing  with  man  in  the  business  of 
life,  of  soiling  her  purity  in  life's  tumult  and  bustle.  Men  with  a  little  ro- 
mance in  their  composition,  and  a  great  fear  of  what  they  call  strong-minded 
women,  (a  vague  term  to  designate  a  sort  of  anomalous  animal  between  a 
man  and  a  woman),  like  to  place  woman  upon  a  pedestal,  and  once  in  a 
while,  when  it  suits  their  convenience,  come  up  and  worship  her;  they  like 
to  keep  her  as  a  sort  of  household  deity,  veiled  sometimes,  if  possible,  so  that 
her  pure  eyes  may  not  see  all  the  paths  in  which  they,  her  sometimes  devout 
worshipers,  tread. 

"It  was  for  no  such  use  God  made  woman.  Eve  was  given  to  Adam  as 
his  helpmeet.  She  was  not  placed  upon  the  earth  merely  to  be  protected  by 
him  and  to  be  looked  upon  with  similar  admiration.  God  did  not  say  to 
Adam,  'I  have  given  you  this  beautiful  creature,  and  you  must  protect  her 
from  the  beasts  of  the  fields  and  the  fowls  of  the  air;  she  is  frail  and  delicate, 
she  won't  understand  all  you  understand,  she  is  weak  in  body  and  intellect 
compared  to  yourself,  but  you  see  she  is  beautiful,  and  she  wiU  be  to  you 
more  of  a  companion  than  all  those  beasts  you  have  just  been  naming.' 
No,  none  of  this.  But  she  was  to  be  his  helpmeet,  bone  of  his  bone  and 
flesh  of  his  flesh.  The  fruit  of  the  forbidden  tree  which  made  them  hke  unto 
gods,  was  partaken  by  her  as  well  as  by  him,  and  since  the?  hour  they  were 
driven  from  Paradise,  she,  equally  with  him,  has  shared  the  punishment  for 
transgression.  Hand  in  hand  woman  went  with  man  out  of  the  garden  of 
Eden,  and  God  designed  that  thus  she  should  travel  with  him  to  the  end  of 
time." 

Her  poetical  productions  are  numerous  and  excellent. 

CAXDLEMAS. 

Winter   had    hound   Ids   brow   with   holly, 

And  passing  'neath  the  mistletoe,  had  clasped 

The  New  Year  in  his  cold  embrace    His  breath 

Congealed  in  icy  tears  upon  the  cheek 

He  pressed.    Hoarse  winds  mourned  through  the  leafless  trees 

A  requiem  for  the  past;  while  no  glad  song 

Of  brook  or  bird  welcomed  the  New  Year  in. 

Pale  and  wan  the  sun  of  February 

Shone  in  on  Candlemas.    A  mother  rose 

And  lighting  up  the  tapers  duly  ranged, 


336  OUE    WOMAN    WOEKEKS. 

Each  taper  named  for  one  she  loved,  sat  down 
To  watch  their  burning.    This  for  her  first  born, 
She  of  the  glowing  cheek  and  bounding  step, 
Who  woke  within  her  heart  a  mother's  love. 
The  next  was  for  a  pale  and  drooping  girl. 
Over  whose  couch   for  long,  long  days  and  nights 
She  oft  had  trembling  hung.    And  as  she  turned 
To  watch  that  taper's  blaze,  her  cheek  grew  pale, 
And  every  pulse  was  still.    Yet  it  burned  on. 
Oh,  sunny-haired,  and  sunny-browed  was  she, 
The  very  sunlight  of  her  home,  whose  course 
Was  imaged  forth  by  the  next  taper's  light, 
Laughing  amid  the  flowers,  herself  a  flower. 
Singing  amid  the  birds,  herself  a  bird, 
And  nestling  like  a  birdling  safe  at  home, 
Within  her  parents'  nest.    The  next,  her  boy. 
Her  noble  boy,  growing  to  be  a  man, 
So  tall,  so  straight,  so  fair  to  look  upon. 
His  mother's  heart  might  well  be  proud ;  but  love 
Was  stronger  than  her  pride,  and  as  she  gazed, 
Her  eye  grew  dim ;  the  light  that  had  flashed  there 
Faded  away  ;    her  heart  grew  sick  with  dread, 
And  her  brain  reeled.    Did  not   the  taper  burn 
With  fearful  speed,    already  half  consumed, 
While  all  the  rest  did  seem  but  newly  lit  ? 
She  closed  her  eyes  and  pressed  her  .tightened  hands 
Upon  her  brow,  and  prayed  aloud:    "Not  yet, 
O  !  God,  let  it  not  burn  out  yet ;    O  !  give 
A  longer  life  unto  my  best  beloved ; 
O  !   stay  the  flickering  blaze  ;  in  mercy  hear. 
And  let   not  darkness  come  upon  me  now." 
She  prayed  in  agony,  then  took  her  hands 
Down  from  her  pallid  face,  unclosed  her  eyes. 
Her  eager,  streaming  eyes.    The  lights  burned  on— 
Yes,  they  burned  on,  and  brighter  than  them  all, 
Yet  nearer  to  its  close  than  all  the  rest, 
Was  the  doomed  one  she  sought.    She  turned  no  more 
From  its  clear  light,  but  sat  and  watched  through  all- 
Saw  the  last  spark  go  out  in  darkness  there, 
Then  veiled  her  face  once  more,  and  cried.  "  My  son ! 

A  few  short  weeks,  it  might  be  months,  and  then 
One  day  they  bore  into  that  mother's  home 
Her  only  boy,  silent   and  still  and  cold. 
No  life  within  the  outstretched  limbs,   no  breath 
Within  tin'  parted  lips.    Close  clung  his   hair 
I " i ■  ■  1 1   !ii^  brow,  wet  with  tin'  salt   sea  foam; 
This  told  his  fate,  and  so  they  laid  him  there 
Beside   his   mother,  and  she  clasped  her  hands 


E.    A.    BACON   LATHROP.  837 

As  once  before  upon  her  tearful   face. 
And  cried,  "O!  God,  my  son!" 

And  thus  he  died  ! 
His  lamp  of  life  had  early  burned  away, 
And  bis  sad,  weeping  mother  lights  no  more 
At  Candlemas  the  taper's  blaze;   she  asks 
No  farther  light  upon  the  future's  page. 
God  in  his  own  good  time  will  mak :  all  clear  ; 
And  when  as  one  by  one  the  lights  go  out 
Upon  her  way,    she  clasps  no  more  her  hands 
Before  her  eyes,  but  lifts  her  gaze  above. 
And  sees  the  lights  kindled  on  earth,  renewed 
Again  in  Heaven. 


E.   A.   BACON    LATHEOP. 

Eliza  A.  Monroe  was  born  in  the  year  1816,  in  the  good  old  revolutionary 
town  of  Lexington,  Mass.  She  says,  "I  have  always  felt  a  little  proud  that 
one  of  my  ancestors  lies  under  the  cenotaph  that  covers  the  illustrious  first 
martyrs  of  our  liberty."  Mrs.  Lathrop,  formerly  known  everywhere  among 
our  people  as  Mrs.  Bacon,  has  been  one  of  the  most  efficient  workers  that 
our  church  was  ever  blessed  with.  She  was  the  third  child  and  eldest 
daughter  of  a  family  of  seven  children.  The  name  of  each  daughter  is  a 
household  treasure  to  our  denomination.  Martha  married  Kev.  E.  G. 
Brooks,  D.D.  Faustina  married  Rev.  J.  S.  Dennis.  Emeline,  the  artist 
and  poet,  was  the  wife  of  Mr.  Caleb  S.  Pierce,  of  Peoria,  111.,  and  the  subjf  ct  of 
this  sketch  married  Henry  Bacon,  who  had  but  a  year  previously  been  or- 
dained over  the  new  East  Cambridge  parish,  with  which  the  Monroe  family 
were  indentified  ;  and  Nancy  Thorning  married  Edwin  Monroe.  I  can  not 
surprise  our  friends  in  good  old  Massachusetts  with  anything  fresh  and  new  to 
them  of  this  family,  for  they  were  well  known  to  the  Universalists  of  that 
State.  They  had  the  reputation  of  being  book- worms,  and  enjoying  each  other's 
society,  and  of  writing  for  each  other's  amusement.  Eliza  (Mrs.  Lathrop), 
however,  was  a  little  more  given  to  such  amusements  than  either  of  the  others. 


338  OUK   WOMAN    WOEKERS. 

she  was  more  frequently  caught  with  pencil  and  paper,  and  the  question, 
when  a  child,  was  frequently  asked  by  the  others,  "What  are  you  writing 
now,  E.  A.?" 

Mr.  Bacon,  many  of  our  friends  will  remember,  took  great  satisfaction  in 
his  wife's  ability,  and  rather  persisted  that  she  should  cultivate  her  gifts,  and 
so  we  frequently  heard  from  her  through  the  "  Eepository , "  which  magazine 
her  husband  edited  twenty  years. 

Mrs.  Bacon  took  no  literary  responsibility  until  after  Mr.  Bacon's  death, 
which  occurred  in  1856,  when  she  says,  "Necessity  required  me  to  help  sup- 
port myself  and  three  boys,  and  I  accepted  the  editorship  of  the  'Ladies'  Re- 
pository,'  which  I  continued  for  five  years.  Truth  to  tell  I  always  considered 
myself  a  Hessian  in  literature,  never  joining  the  army  till  I  needed  its  sup- 
port, and  'What's  the  foe  who  kiUs  for  hire?'  "  She  also  says,  "I  must  con- 
fess, I  never  'lisped  in  numbers,'  and  was  a  pretty  old  child  before  the 
'numbers  came,'  and  I  feel  as  though  it  would  be  just  to  omit  me  from  the 
'Woman  Workers.'     I  confess  the  high  company  is  tempting  to  join." 

During  her  life  with  Mr.  Bacon,  she  was  noted  as  a  superior  pastor's 
wife,  who  took  intense  interest  in  the  parishes  over  which  her  husband  was 
settled,  which  were  Cambridge,  Haverhill,  Marblehead,  Mass. ;  Providence, 
R.  I. ;  and  Philadelphia,  Penn.,  in  which  city  she  became  a  widow,  and  soon 
returned  to  her  kindred  and  old  home  in  Cambridge,  where  she  resided  until 
her  second  marriage  with  Rev.  T.  S.  Lathrop  in  1861.  Mr.  Lathrop  was 
educated  among  the  Unitarians,  and  had  always  been  settled  over  Unitarian 
parishes,  but  being  in  sympathy  with  the  Universalists,  it  was  a  slight  change 
for  him  to  take  a  Universalist  parish  at  Bridgeport,  Conn.,  which  he  took  a 
few  months  before  he  was  united  in  marriage  to  Mrs.  Bacon.  They  resided 
in  that  city  seven  years,  after  which  they  took  charge  of  the  pleasant  parish 
in  the  quiet  little  town  of  North  Salem,  N.  Y.,  where  they  have  resided  in 
harmony  with  all  around  for  thirteen  years. 

Mrs.  Bacon  has  three  boys,  in  whom  any  mother's  heart  would  have  a 
right  to  rejoice  and  take  pride.  She  says,  "They  are  my  best  gifts  to  the 
world.  Henry  is  a  successful  artist  in  Paris,  where  he  has  resided  some 
seventeen  years;  Edwin  M.,  is  managing  editor  of  the  old  'Boston  Advertiser,' 
the  office  that  he  first  entered  as  a  reporter,  fresh  from  school  fourteen  years 


E.    A.    BACON    LATHROP.  889 

ago,  and  Earle  C.  learned  the  machinist  trade,  and  is  now  manufacturing 
his  own  patent  'hoisting  engine'  in  New  York,"  and  as  an  admirer  of  his 
pluck  says  of  him,  "If  you  want  an  engine  to  raise  the  Rocky  Mountains, 
he's  the  man  for  you." 

The  readers  of  the  old  "Ladies'  Repository"  were  always  delighted  with 
Mrs.  Bacon's  contributions,  and  her  signature  "E.  A.  B."  was  a  warranty  for 
what  preceded  it,  and  the  character  of  the  "  Repository "  while  under  her 
editorial  care,  proved  that  she  only  needed  the  spur  of  necessity  to  render  her 
a  finished  pen-artist,  while  her  memoir  of  Mr.  Bacon  and  her  volume  of  his 
sermons  placed  her  among  the  hest  of  our  editors  and  writers.  It  is  a  source 
of  regret  to  us  that  we  are  unable  to  present  more  minute  particulars  of  her 
life,  but  her  name  will  always  rank  high  among  our  toilers  with  pen  and 
heart  and  brain.  We  should  be  glad  to  make  copious  selections  from  Mrs. 
Bacon's  writings,  but  as  we  draw  towards  the  end  of  our  pleasant  task,  ac- 
cumulating materials  compel  a  brevity  we  regret.     We  quote: 

HYMN. 

Young  hearts  are  glad,  young  eyes  are  bright, 

To  welcome  in  this  day, 
We  stand  a  congregated  band, 

Our  grateful  vows  to  pay. 

Recall  we  now  a  festive  week. 

Long  centuries  ago, 
When    parents,   missing  one   like  us, 

Were  filled  with  fear  and  woe. 

Recall  how  in  the  temple    aisles 

They  found  the  holy  child. 
How   young  he  did   liis  Father's  work, 

The  pure  and    undeflled. 

Dear   Saviour,    may   thy   cares   for  Tis 

End  thus  in  grateful  hymn! 
Dear  Father,   may   our   work   for  theo 

This  blessed  day  begin! 


"I  have  been  led  to  this  moralizing  to-day  by  writing  for  the  first  time  on 
a  new  desk,  not  new  from  the  manufacturers,  for  there  are  a  few  ink  stains 


340  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

upon  it,  and  the  cloth  upon  which  my  paper  lies  is  worn  nearly  threadbare 
in  one  spot,  where  a  busy  arm  has  moved  at  the  will  of  a  busier  brain. 

"Now,  I  have  many  times  looked  upon  this  very  desk,  as  it  has  stood  for 
several  years  past  in  a  friend's  study,  with  somewhat  covetous  eyes.  It 
seemed  to  be  the  one  thing  needful  to  make  my  own  httle  study  complete, 
and  I  woidd  compare  its  broad  top,  where  I  could  rest  my  arms  and  think  or 
dream  between  the  long  pauses  with  which  I  often  indulge  my  pen ;  its  row 
of  nice,  large  drawers  where  I  might  deposit  separately  my  accepted,  rejected 
and  corrected  'Repository'  communications;  its  ample  apartments  for  all 
needful  writing  apparatus,  its  cosy  httle  « pigeon  holes,'  for  choice  letters 
and  dainty  scraps  of  literature,  and  its  sort  of  side  table  for  text  books,  flower 
vase,  or  anything  that  best  suited  me;  I  would  contrast  aU  these  with  my  old 
round  table  with  its  odd  mixture  of  books,  papers,  pamphlets,  sewing  ma- 
terials, and  a  httle  narrow,  unbusiness-like  portable  desk,  where  I  was  obliged 
to  sit  at  my  writing  continually  in  one  attitude,  and  the  residt  would  always 
be  in  favor  of  my  friend's  property. 

"Now  I  find  this  very  property  in  my  own  study,  the  round  table  and 
portable  desk  removed,  and  myself  sitting,  the  sole  possessor  of  the  coveted 
treasure.  And  yet,  and  yet,  I  am  not  satisfied,  because  of  the  entailments 
that  have  accompanied  the  new  possession.  With  it  I  am  ever  to  be  reminded 
of  what  was  and  is  not.  The  friend  who  bequeathed  it  to  me  is  now  hun- 
dreds of  miles  off  in  those  far  Western  regions — even  on  the  broad  Mississippi 
— -those  regions  that  have  grasped  so  many  of  the  heart's  dearest  treasures. 
He  has  borne  with  him  too  the  light  of  our  home  circle,  the  life  of  aU  our 
family  festivals.  With  his  gift  I  am  ever  to  be  reminded  of  a  certain  Sum- 
mer day  when  four  of  us  stood  upon  our  cottage  porch,  and  watched  with 
tearful  eyes  the  receding  figure  that  for  so  many  years  had  been  a  very  pres- 
ence of  joy  among  us;  and  the  Summer  seemed  to  die  out,  'and  over  all 
things  brooding  slept  the  quiet  sense  of  something  lost,'  when  we  felt  how 
long  the  time  might  be  before  we  should  look  into  that  dear  face  again. 

"Ah  friend!  with  your  presence  I  could  well  dispense  with  the  property 
you  have  left  me.  What  comfort  or  luxury  can  atone  for  the  loss  of  kind 
voices  and  loving  eyes  and  the  constant  interchange  of  every  mood  of  thought 
and  feeling? 


ANNA    LIPPITT    MARVIN.  341 

"Even  now  I  look  with  fond  regret  too  upon  the  old  table  and  little  desk, 
endeared  to  me  by  sacred  duties,  the  labor  of  love  that  I  have  accomplished 
while  seated  before  them  and  tins  spacious  substitute,  that  is  like  the  thought 
of  its  original  possessor,  strong,  well-planned  and  nicely  adjusted,  seems  out  of 
place  in  my  womanish -looking  study,  that  is  dedicated  to  memory  rather  than 
letters;  and  its  old  furniture,  suited  alike  to  literature  or  the  pleasant  domes- 
tic art  of  needle-work,  was  perhaps  more  in  harmony  with  its  occupant. 

"I  am  much  hke  one,  I  imagine,  as  I  enter  into  the  possession  of  my  new 
property,  who  through  a  long  life  has  toiled  in  a  snug  little  homestead,  and 
at  last  has  become  possessor  of  broad  lands  and  baronial  halls.  He  rides  up 
the  grand  avenues,  and  treads  the  stately  rooms,  but  ah  dear  and  tender  as- 
sociations are  with  the  old  homestead,  the  well-sweep,  lilac  bushes  and  apple 
orchard. 

"Ah  me!  I  will  never,  I  trust,  break  the  ninth  Commandment  again." 


ANNA  LIPPITT  MARVIN. 

Mrs.  Marvin  was  the  daughter  of  Daniel  and  Catherine  Burch  Lippitt 
and  wife  of  Hon.  Thomas  E.  0.  Marvin,  of  Portsmouth,  N.  H.  She  was 
bom  in  Cohocton,  N.  Y.,  September  26,  1834.  The  following  tender  and 
beautiful  tribute  is  from  the  fruitful  pen  of  Mrs.  J.  L.  Patterson,  sister  to  the 
angelic  woman  described.  I  must  forego  the  pleasure  of  giving  the  introduc- 
tion to  this  tribute,  published  in  the  "Christian  Leader'-'  of  April  21,  1881. 

Mrs.  Patterson  says: 

"I  count  it  one  of  God's  benedictions  that  there  came  to  me  in  the 
home  of  my  childhood  one  who  was  altogether  true  and  noble.  Love  does 
not  make  me  blind  to  faults;  rather  does  it  make  clear  the  vision,  and  very 
sensitive  the  heart.  We  were  like  other  families  with  our  virtues  and  our 
faults,  our  successes  and  our  failures,  however  noble  the  aim.  And  I  could 
see  these,  as  they  coidd  be  seen  in  me.  But  when  I  took  into  my  heart  the 
love  of  my  only  sister,  something  sacred  made  its  abode  there  from  the  time 


312  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

when  I,  a  little  wondering  girl,  was  called  to  look  upon  her  infant  face.  Her 
dark  eyes  seemed  to  have  depths  which  this  world  could  not  fathom,  and  as  I 
looked  into  them,  I  had  full  faith  that  she  came  from  the  world  of  angels  to 
make  her  home  with  us. 

"Year  after  year,  through  childhood,  she  was  my  special  love  and  charge. 
I  gave  her  the  guardian  care  of  a  mother  in  all  of  our  school  life  which  we 
passed  together,  a  happy  period  made  short  by  years  of  invalidism  on  my 
jmrt,  and  an  utter  dependence  upon  the  instruction  of  my  father  at  home. 
She  had  no  such  hindrance.  Reasonably  healthy  as  child  and  maiden,  she 
pursued  her  studies  as  long  as  she  cared  to  attend  school.  'A  Tribute  to  Our 
Mother'  was,  I  think,  her  first  venture  in  print.  It  was  warm  with  a  daugh- 
ter's loving  reverence,  and  outreaching  with  the  faith  of  the  Christian.  Af- 
terwards, when  we  had  care  of  the  young  church  in  Girard,  and  she  attend- 
ed, for  nearly  two  years,  the  academy  there,  occasional  poems  appeared  in 
the  'Ambassador,'  and  the  'Christian  Repository,'  of  Montpelier.  These, 
for  the  most  part,  were  sent  to  friends,  and  without  her  knowledge.  She 
was  a  very  timid  girl,  not  counting  her  divine  gift  at  its  true  value. 

"When  the  editor  of  the  'Ladies'  Repository'  wrote  her  that  the  'At- 
lantic' published  no  better  verses  than  her's,  she  received  the  compliment  as 
a  flattering  extravagance.  For  two  or  three  years  she  wrote  quite  frequently 
for  this  magazine  over  her  own  initials,  A.  M.  L.,  Cassewago,  Penn.  I  pict- 
ured for  her  a  life  devoted  to  authorship.  It  seemed  to  me  that  she  only  needed 
to  work  the  mine,  to  produce  large  yields  of  the  finest  ore.  After  our  re- 
moval to  New  England,  I  wrote  her  to  this  effect,  depicting  a  fair  and  suc- 
cessful future.  I  could  see  the  laurels  already  growing  for  her  brow.  She 
answered  me,  'Your  letter  brings  to  my  mind's  eye  two  pictures;  one  of  a 
woman,  intense,  hungry-eyed,  wild-haired  and  homeless,  writing  for  bread; 
the  other,  a  woman  sitting  quietly  by  her  husband's  fireside,  her  heart  hushed 
by  his  love,  and  in  her  arms  that  sweetest  of  all  poems,  a  child  of  her  own. 
I  look  on  this  picture,  then  on  that,  and  what  wonder  if  I  hesitate  on  the 
threshold  of  the  way  you  see  opening  before  me  ?' 

"After  the  death  of  our  father,  in  the  Spring  of  I860,  Anne  came  to 
New  Hampshire  to  make  her  home  with  me.  In  the  Autumn  of  that  year 
she  met  a  young  man  of  our  congregation,  Thomas  E.  0.  Marvin.     He  was 


ANNA    LIPPITT    MAKYIN.  843 

at  once  attracted  by  her  quiet  loveliness,  and  she  found  in  him  the  providen- 
tial center  for  her  affectionate  interest.  They  had  a  brief  but  happy  court- 
ship, and  on  Thanksgiving  day  of  1801  they  were  married. 

"Her  pen  was  now  almost  wholly  laid  aside,  in  preparation  for  the  new 
home  which  must  be  huilded.  She  had  never  flooded  the  papers  with  her 
verses,  but  when  they  did  appear  they  were  like  a  strain  of  music  from  a  di- 
vine instrument.  Through  all  her  married  life  of  nineteen  years,  I  think  she 
wrote  less  than  a  dozen  pieces;  but  after  a  fair  May  morning  in  the  Spring 
of  1863  her  arms  were  never  empty  of  'that  sweetest  of  all  poems,  a  child 
of  her  own.'  Seven  sons  and  two  daughters  were  born  to  her,  two  of 
whom,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  preceded  her  to  the  happy  bind. 

"In  writing  me  of  the  christening  of  the  three  youngest  children  in  the 
same  month  in  which  Mabel  went  to  heaven,  she  says,  'I  went  through  it 
all,  thanking  God  for  the  ones  I  had  in  my  sight,  trying  to  still  the  heavy 
ache,  ache  for  the  little  lamb  I  cannot  see.  Oh,  no,  my  heart  cannot  be 
healed  of  its  longing  till  I  find  my  baby  again,  till  I  can  hold  her  in  my  arms. 
I  should  never  think  of  saying  those  strange  words, 

"Nol  as  a  child  shall  we  again  behold  her.' 

"No  mother  ever  wrote  that.  Would  any  maiden,  would  any  full-grown 
beautiful  angel,  make  up  to  me  my  lost  darling  in  her  sweet,  pure  infancy? 
No,  no!  I  want  my  baby  when  I  go  to  her,  just  as  she  was,  only  made  im- 
mortal.    Can  I  wait  for  that  day? 

"If  I  felt  any  degree  of  disappointment  that  Mrs.  Marvin  did  not  keep 
her  place  in  literature,  it  was  more  than  compensated  by  the  rare  order  of  her 
life  as  wife  and  mother.  The  full  flower  of  her  womanhood  came  to  blos- 
som in  her  home.  She  governed  her  children  wholly  by  reason  and  the  af- 
fections, never  deeming  her  time  too  precious  to  explain  to  them  the  basis  of 
her  wishes,  if  they  showed  any  hesitancy  in  keeping  her  requests.  If  she  de- 
nied what  seemed  to  them  a  pleasure,  she  did  it  in  such  a  way  that  the  child 
yielded  willingly,  seeing  the  righteousness  of  her  reason.  On  one  occasion 
little  Kay  came  into  the  sitting  room  after  teasing  his  mother  for  some  time 
to  go  out.  The  day  was  cold,  and  she  deemed  it  imprudent  for  him  to  go. 
He  thought  he  was  alone  in  the  room,  and  he  soliloquized,  '0  she  is  a  beau- 
tiful woman;  she  is  a  beautiful  woman,  and  I  love  her!    I  do!'     'Who  is  a 


34-i  OUE   WOMAN   WORKERS. 

beautiful  woman?'  said  his  father  from  an  unobserved  corner.  He  turned 
proudly  and  answered,  'My  mother.'  She  had  denied  his  wish,  but  she  had 
done  it  in  such  a  way  that  his  little  heart  was  filled  with  delight. 

"She  was  a  woman  of  intense  convictions  and  unwavering  religious  faith. 
In  her  sixteenth  year -she  united  with  the  first  Universalist  Church  of  Cas- 
sewago,  Pennsylvania,  and  after  making  her  home  in  New  Hampshire,  she 
transferred  her  membership  to  the  old  church  in  Portsmouth,  her  husband 
becoming  a  member  at  the  same  time.  She  gave  to  this  venerable  centre  of 
worship  a  large  degree  of  her  heart's  love  and  loyalty.  She  attended  its 
services  when  it  was  possible,  going  many  a  time  when  a  woman  less  devoutly 
Christian  would  have  yielded  to  physical  weakness  and  staid  in  her  own 
chamber. 

"Years  ago  a  young  friend  went  out  into  the  immortal  life,  and  as  the 
voice  of  our  dearly  beloved  to  us  I  will  close  with  her 

"IN    MEMORIAM." 

Our  hearts  keep  best  the  portrait  of  a  friend; 

They  need  no  dumb  remembrancer  of   art, 
For  love,  the  rarest  limner,  will   defend 

His  sacred  studio  in  the  human  heart. 

Within  this  picture  gallery,  now  and   then. 
Each  one  of  us,  withdrawn  from  earthly  strife, 

May  And  the  faces  of  our  lost  again, 
Faithful  as  when  they  walked  with  us  in  life. 

We  do  not  think  what  chaplets  they  have  worn, 
What  words  of  wisdom  they  have  left  unsaid, 

But  simply  how  we  loved  them,  as  we  mourn 
Above  the  still,  white  faces  of  our  dead. 

And  so  to-night  I  hallow  all  my  heart 
With  thoughts  of  one  forever  passed  away, 

Whose  leaves  of  life  were  rudely  blown  apart 
Ere  they   had  opened  to  tin;   noon   of  day. 

Rudely,  didsl  say?    O  blind  and  crippled  Faith! 

How  crossed  witli  doubt,  how  slow  to  comprehend! 
Wt   we  believe  that  our  departed  hath 
Entered   that  life  whose   day  shall   know   no  end. 

Thru    ]et    us  give   him   joy  instead   <>f  tears: 
This  life  of  ours  this  weak  and  transient   breath, 


EMELINE    E.    PIERCE.  945 

When  measured  by  heaven's  bright  eternal  years 
This  life  of  ours  'twere   better  to  call  death. 

0  sweeter  than  the   In-art   of    any   rose, 

Fairer  than  empty  honor's  brightest  bays, 
And   softer  than   an   anthem's  solemn   close, 

Shall   be   the   memory  of  his   upright    ways. 

Far  from  life's  ocean,  turbulent   and  hoarse. 
Where   wrecks  of   pomp   and   vanity   are   whirled. 

Like  some  pure  stream  he  kept  his  even  course 
Along  the  still,  green  valleys  of  the  world. 

And  shall  I  murmur  thai    my   friend  is  gone? 

That  from  earth's  ills  he  is  forever   Eree? 
Passed  in  his  placid  beauty— crowned   with    dawn— 

Into  the  light  of  love's  eternal  sea? 

But  oh,  for  those  who   keep  his  memory  warm, 
And  for  his   vanished   presence  still   must    yearn, 

Who  watch  and  wait  for  a  familiar  form 
That  never,  never,  never  will  return. 

God  help  the   hearts   that    miss   his   face  to-night. 
With  sure  and   steadfast   faith   which  cannot  fail, 

And   lift  upon   their   sad   and   tearful   sight, 
What  glory  wraps   him  round  within  the  vail. 

Then  let  us  give  him  joy  instead  of  tears, 

Joy  that   such   tears   his   eyes   no   longer  dim, 
Joy  that   his   heart   shall   throb    no   more   with  fears, 

Joy  for  the  hope  that  we  shall  go  to    him. 

How  fast  they  gather  on  that   radiant   shore. 
The  friends  who  walked   with   us  but  yesterday, 

The  holy  hands  that  we  shall  clasp  no  more. 
White,  gloaming  hands  that  beckon  us  away. 


EMELINE    R.    PIERCE. 

I  cannot  mention  the  great  and  good  amount  of  work  done  by  Mrs.  Ba- 
con, and  keep  entirely  silent  about  her  sister,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Pierce.  If  she  were 
living,  her  shy,  shrinking  nature  would  lay  her  delicate  fingers  upon  my  pen 

23 


346  OUR     WOMAN     WORKERS. 

to  stay  its  progress  in  writing  the  little  I  shall  find  time  or  room  for.  By  na- 
ture she  was  an  artist,  and  stole  time  from  the  homely  duties  of  the  household 
(to  which  she  was  true  in  every  sense  of  the  word)  to  instruct  her  young 
daughter  in  her  beautiful  refining  art.  Her  sister  says  of  her,  "If  there  was 
one  trait  prominent  in  our  dear  Eineline,  it  was  the  harmony  and  repose  of 
her  whole  nature.  She  seemed  hke  one  perfectly  disciplined.  In  the  beauti- 
ful month  of  June,  I  saw  her  for  the  last  time  at  her  home  in  Peoria,  fad- 
ing daily  away  from  the  husband  and  children." 

She  was  a  pleasing  writer  of  verse,  and  one  of  the  many  who  graced  the 
pages  of  the  "Repository."  She  was  born  in  Charlestown,  Mass.,  April  6, 
1823;  married  Caleb  S.  Pierce,  Aug.  1,  1845,  and  died  in  Peoria,  111.,  Aug. 
1,  1869. 


SAEAH    STUAET   MAKSH. 

Sarah  Stuart  Clarke,  daughter  of  William  L.  and  Cornelia  C.  Clarke, 
was  bom  in  Kendall,  Orleans  Co.,  N.  Y.,  January  17,  1830.  In  her  child- 
hood she  was  compelled  to  attend  Partialist  churches,  and  she  can  remember 
being  almost  crazed  at  the  doctrines  inculcated  at  the  early  age  of  three 
years,  but  the  study  of  the  Scriptures  and  the  intelligent  teachings  of  father 
and  mother,  who  were  inclined  to  liberal  views,  prevented  disastrous  results. 
At  the  age  of  seven  she  had  discarded  all  confidence  in  the  popular  errors,  and 
at  nine  years,  encouraged  by  her  parents  and  stimulated  by  their  liberal  prin- 
ciples and  reverent  lives,  she  embraced  the  great  hope  of  universal  salvation. 
She  heard  her  first  sermon,  when  ten  years  old,  from  "Father  Miles,"  an 
earnest  Christian.  Since  then  she  has  been  an  understanding  and  rejoicing 
believer  in  the  full  gospel  of  the  blessed  Lord. 

February  17,  1852,  she  was  married  to  George  B.  Marsh,  of  Pavilion, 
N.  Y.  She  was  baptized  by  Rev.  J.  J.  Austin,  her  mother  and  infant  son 
receiving  the  sacred  rite  on  the  same  day,  and  in  1855  the  family  removed 
to  Chicago,  where  she  by  letter   became  a  member  of  St.  Paul's  church,  of 


ELIZABETH    E.    SAWYER.  847 

which,  a  few  years  later,  Rev.  W.  II.  Ryder,  D.D.,  became  pastor.  Since 
then  Mrs.  Marsh  has  been  an  active  and  efficient  worker  in  the  denomina- 
tion, in  its  local  and  general  work,  and  in  organized  charities.  She  was 
Vice  President  of  the  Women's  Centenary  Association  (see  account  in  this 
book).  In  1873  she  became  President  of  the  Woman's  Association  of  Illi- 
nois, which  office  she  held  for  five  years.  She  has  been  the  leading  spirit  in 
the  work  of  the  association  from  that  time  to  the  present.  In  1875  she  was 
chosen  one  of  the  trustees  of  the  Illinois  Convention,  which  office  she  holds 
at  the  present  time.  In  October,  1877,  she  was  elected  as  one  of  the  trustees 
of  the  General  Convention,  the  only  woman  ever  placed  on  the  Board. 

Besides  working  for  the  church,  Mrs.  Marsh  has  found  time  to  engage 
in  humanitarian  work.  She  has  been  President  of  the  Washingtonian 
Home,  Secretary  of  the  Orphan  Asylum  two  years,  one  of  the  incorpo- 
rators of  the  Illinois  Industrial  School  for  Girls,  and  President  of  its  Exec- 
utive Committee. 

Not  many  women  are  so  blessed  with  wealth  and  leisure,  as  to  enable 
them  to  devote  so  much  time  in  serving  the  church  and  mankind,  and  still 
fewer  are  those  who  have  the  inclination  to  devote  themselves  so  generously 
as  Mrs.  Marsh  has  done,  and  continues  to  do. 


ELIZABETH   E.    SAWYER. 

The  native  place  of  Elizabeth  E.  Turner  was  Lyme,  N.  H.  The  views 
from  the  hill  near  the  house  within  which  she  first  saw  the  light,  take  in 
some  of  the  grandest  scenery  of  that  great  realm  of  grandeur,  where  artists 
love  to  linger.  She  was  born  on  the  27th  of  August,  1822.  Her  father, 
Jacob  Turner,  could  trace  his  line  of  ancestry  direct  to  Humphrey  Turner, 
who  settled  in  Plymouth  in  the  year  1G28.  Later  the  Turners  dwelt  in 
Scituate,  Mass.,  and  the  farm  is  still  occupied  by  one  of  the  descendants.  It 
is  a  family  of  most  honorable  record,  not  only  through  the  early  history  of 
the  country,  but  to  the  present  time.     Elizabeth's  grandmother  was  a  Cush- 


348  OUR    WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

ing,  a  descendant  of  the  Cusbings  who  settled  and  owned  the  town  of  Hing- 
ham,  and  their  history  is  traceable  to  the  days  previous  to  the  establishing 
of  the  church  of  England.  Elizabeth's  father  was  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and 
transacted  the  business  that  is  now  usually  prosecuted  by  legal  men  in  these 
days  of  many  lawyers.  He  had  his  ups  and  downs  in  financial  changes,  but 
would  have  managed  to  sail  a  smooth  sea  if  his  health  had  not  failed  him, 
which  it  did  utterly,  and  forced  the  family  to  move,  in  1833,  to  the  busy  city 
which  in  after  years  was  called  the  "City  of  Spindles,"  Lowell,  Mass.  Here 
the  mother  and  older  daughters  took  active  part  in  supporting  the  family.  I 
say  older  which  is  true,  but  the  subject  of  this  sketch,  the  eldest,  was  but 
eleven  years  of  age  when  she  entered  the  Lowell  mills,  and  did  her  share  in 
keeping  the  wolf  from  the  door.  At  that  time  the  manufacturing  population 
of  Lowell  was  wholly  different  from  the  present ;  it  was  largely  of  intelligent 
young  women  from  New  England  country  towns. 

The  father  and  mother  who  had,  expectantly,  looked  forward  to  see  their 
children  highly  educated,  were  made  very  unhappy  by  this  pressure  of  cir- 
cumstances. Elizabeth,  at  this  youthful  age,  was  prepared  for  the  High 
school,  but  her  working  by  no  means  stopped  her  education.  In  a  few  years 
she  joined  a  society,  organized  by  Rev.  Abel  C.  Thomas,  "The  Improvement 
Circle,"  where  essays,  stories  and  poetry  were  read  aloud  by  the  different 
authors,  and  criticised  and  prepared  for  the  "Lowell  Offering,"  the  first 
magazine  ever  written  solely  by  women.  This  association  was  composed 
of  women  who  had  been  accustomed  to  homes  of  culture,  and  who  were  com- 
pelled, by  change  of  circumstances,  to  toil  with  their  hands. 

Elizabeth's  mother  was  naturally  a  Universalist,  born  so,  I  imagine,  for 
her  sympathies  were  active  for  those  in  sorrow  and  need,  and  her  pity  great 
for  sin-sick  soids,  which  she  would  help  if  she  could,  and  it  was  good  reason- 
ing to  her  that  if  there  were  any  person,  divine  or  human,  who  would  not  give 
the  "heavy-burdened  rest,"  he  was  not  worthy  the  name  of  Love  or  Mercy. 

Elizabeth's  father,  during  a  long  illness,  made  the  Scriptures  his  only 
study,  and  read  himself  iuto  our  blissful  belief.  Their  first  enjoyment  in 
hearing  the  doctrine  of  Christ  preached,  pure  and  perfect,  was  when  they 
removed  to  Lowell  and  sat  under  the  scholarly,  scriptural  and  tender  preach- 
ing of  Rev.  T.  B.  Thayer,  D.  D.,  Rev.  Abel  C.  Thomas  and  Rev.  A.  A.  Miner, 


ELIZABETH    E.    SAWYER.  ;;i'.i 

D.D.  In  1818  the  Turners  removed  to  Boston,  and  joined  Dr.  Miner's 
church,  which  was  just  after  he  had  removed  from  Lowell  to  Boston.  In  his 
Sunday-school  she  and  all  the  members  of  her  family  were  very  active,  as 
they  had  been  in  our  cause  during  their  residence  in  Lowell. 

She  was  married  to  Charles  B.  Sawyer,  of  Boston,  July  SI,  1851,  and  in 
1856  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sawyer  moved  to  the  then  promising  city  of  the  West 
(Chicago),  and  they  have  always  been  staunch  supporters  and  members  of 
St.  Paul's  Church,  Rev.  W.  H.  Ryder,  D.D.,  pastor. 

They  have  one  son,  Charles,  who  married  the  daughter  of  ;i  prominent 
physician,  Dr.  S.  C.  Ames,  of  Boston,  Mass.  Their  household  is  one  of  har- 
mony, luxury  and  culture.  Mrs.  Sawyer  from  girlhood  was  very  retiring,  and 
to  witness  any  obtrusiveness,  especially  of  women,  was  always  repulsive  to  her. 
She  is  most  truly  a  womanly  woman,  and  one  who  must  be  known  intimately 
to  be  appreciated.  Her  friends  over-rule  her  own  modest  estimate  of  her  lit- 
erary abilities,  and  insist  that  she  possesses  talents  of  a  superior  order.  The 
subjoined  will  sustain  their  judgment. 

FEED    MY    SHEEP. 

Earnest,  faithful,   thoughtful  women', 

Listen  to  our  earnest  '-all, 
As  we  plead  for  those  less  favored. 

Who  are  still  in  Error's  thrall. 
And  direct    your  close   attention 

To  those  words  with   meaning  deep, 
Spoken  by  our  loving  Saviour 

To  his  followers— "  Feed  my  sheep!" 

To  those  tones  so  sweet   and  tender. 

Uttered  centuries  ago. 
Can  we  nol   hear  sweetest  echoes, 

While  relieving  human  woe? 
Hearts   an'    heavy,  souls   an'   darkened, 

Spirits  shrouded  deep  in  idoom. 
Waiting  for  our  glorious   gospel 

Which  can  glorify  the  tomb. 
Sisters,   lei   us  do   our  duty  ! 

Help  to  lift  tin'  heavy  cloud 
Which  o'erhangs  so  many   households, 

Ami   the   highest   hopes  enshroud  ! 
Heed  our  blessed  Savior's  message, 

Let  it  break  our  lengthened   sleep, 


350  OUB    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

Nerve  each  heart  and  hand  to  labor 
At  his  bidding—"  Feed  my  sheep  ! " 

Grand  as  is  our  present  era, 

Wondrous  as  its  findings    are. 
Mighty  with  its  viewless  forces, 

Laying  nations'  secrets  bare. 
Not-withstanding  all  this  glory. 

Is  there  not  another  side. 
Not  so  fair  or  bright,  or  cheering, 

Checking  all  this  human  pride  ? 
Everywhere  are  workers  needed 

To  arrest  the  reign  of   crime  ; 
Women,  waken  to  the  summons, 

To  the  needs  of  this,  our  time  ! 
Never  could  that  earnest  pleading 

Better  be  obeyed  than  now  ; 
Never  could  a  better  harvest 

Gathered  be— then  let  us  bow 
With  a  joyful  recognition. 

And  this  precept  ever  keep, 
And,  henceforward,  strive  with  gladness 

Faithfully  to  feed  his  sheep ! 


OEPHIA   E.     CANTWELL. 

Mrs.  Cantwell  was  the  third  daughter  of  Rev.  I.  D.  Williamson,  D.D., 
and  was  born  in  Albany,  N.  Y.,  June  27,  1834.  Like  many  ministers' 
daughters  she  was  educated  in  many  places—  New  York,  Memphis,  Mobile, 
Cincinnati,  Louisville — owing  to  her  father's  frequent  pastoral  changes.  Her 
first  recollections  are  of  Baltimore,  Md.,  and  her  final  educational  finish  was 
at  the  Normal  School,  Albany. 

From  her  earliest  days  she  was  interested  in  church  and  Sunday-school 
work,  and  was  a  great  help  to  ber  father.  She  was  especially  gifted  with 
musical  abilities,  and  when  not  more  than  eight  years  old  took  prominent 
parts  in  the  musical  entertainments  of  the  church  and  Sunday-school,  to  the 
delight  of  all.  Her  first  musical  teacher  was  Rev.  G.  L.  Demarest,  D.D., 
the  present  General  Secretary  of  our  church,  then  a  business  man  and  Super- 


OllPHIA    E.    GANTWELL.  351 

intcndcnt  of  the  Orchard -street  Sunday-school,  who  from  his  love  of  music 
and  love  of  children  taught  the  little  miss,  then  six.  years  old,  the  rudiments 
of  the  divine  art  in  his  own  house.  From  that  time  the  whole  hent  of  her 
mind  was  in  the  direction  of  music,  for  which  she  was  endowed  with  a  mar- 
vellous gift.  A  sweet  and  powerful  soprano  voice,  a  thorough  musical  edu- 
cation, and  an  engrossing  passion,  all  these  seemed  to  make  music  her 
vocation.  Her  musical  education  was  perfected  in  Philadelphia,  where  she 
was  fully  prepared  for  professional  concert  singing  by  John  J.  Fraser,  of  the 
Scguin  troupe.  Indeed  her  own  personal  choice  would  have  compelled  her 
to  adopt  music  as  a  profession,  which  she  might  have  followed  to  her  great 
emolument,  but  the  earnest  dissuasions  of  those  she  loved  better  than  she 
loved  music,  and  the  eloquent  tongue  of  a  captivating  young  minister,  caused 
her  to  reserve  for  the  delight  of  a  few,  a  gift  that  might  have  charmed  great 
audiences.  Accordingly,  July  8,  1863,  Orphia  Williamson  was  married  to 
Rev.  J.  S.  Cantwell,  D.D.,  in  Columbus,  O.,  where  the  young  couple  lived 
two  years,  and  in  1865  Dr.  Williamson  and  his  son-in-law  purchased  the 
"Star  in  the  West,"  and  Cincinnati  became  the  home  of  Mrs.  Cantwell. 
During  the  sixteen  years  of  Dr.  CantweU's  connection  with  that  paper,  which 
he  made  one  of  the  best  religious  journals  ever  printed,  his  wife  was  a  faithful 
helper,  working  early  and  late,  year  in  and  year  out,  with  a  devotedness  and 
energy  impossihle  to  excel,  to  render  her  husband's  enterprise  successful.  If 
devotedness,  perseverance,  toil,  not  surpassed  by  galley  slaves,  could  have 
wrought  success  they  would  have  achieved  it,  but  non -paying  subscribers  and 
financial  reverses  compelled  their  abandonment  of  a  work  for  which  both 
were  amply  qualified.     They  deserved  great  success. 

Mrs.  Cantwell  is  a  charming  writer,  having  few  superiors  in  the  rare  art 
of  letter-writing,  and  if  she  would  she  might  obtain  great  success. 

The  Woman's  Centenary  Association  has  always  had  an  ardent  sup- 
porter in  Mrs.  Cantwell,  who  was  elected  Vice-President  for  Ohio  at  ifs  initial 
meeting  in  Buffalo,  and  who  has  long  been  Corresponding  Secretary.  Her 
services  have  been  very  efficient  and  valuable  in  the  great  national  organiza- 
tion of  the  women  of  our  church. 

In  1881  Dr.  Cantwell  took  pastoral  charge  of  the  parish  in  North  Attle- 
horo,  Mass.,  and  Mrs.  Cantwell   is  admirably  adapted  to  the  position  she  oc- 


352  0UR    WOMAN    WORKEES. 

cupies — the  difficult,  and  yet  for  one  with  such  gifts  as  hers,  the  delightful 
relation  of  minister's  wife.  Possessed  of  rare  social  accomplishments,  genial, 
sunny,  with  the  finest  colloquial  gifts,  she  is  no  doubt  far  happier  than  when 
in  beautiful  "Ingleside,"  her  happy  home  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  for  so 
many  years,  and  the  delightful  retreat  where  so  many  have  found  an  atmos- 
phere of  social  and  intellectual  refinement  and  domestic  cheer  and  happiness, 
more  attractive  than  the  wonderful  natural  scenery  in  which  that  home  was 
so  appropriately  set.  But  however  prosperous  and  attractive  any  other  home 
may  be,  there  will  never  be  another  earthly  spot  around  which  will  cluster  so 
much  that  is  dear,  as  in  that  home  at  "Ingleside, '?  from  which  now  all  the 
former  inmates  have  gone,  the  venerable  Dr.  Williamson,  beloved  and  mighty 
apostle  of  the  truth,  to  the  house  not  made  with  hands,  and  the  rest  else- 
where, faithfully  performing  the  world's  work  in  their  appointed  places. 

Mrs.  Cantwell  has  an  only  daughter,  Georgia,  now  sixteen  years  of  age. 


L.    A.    E.    MESSENGER. 

This  lady  is  the  widow  of  Kev.  George  Messenger,  well  known  in  the 
ministry  of  the  Universalist  Church,  to  whom  she  was  married  at  about  the 
age  of  twenty-five,  and  who  died  at  Springfield,  Ohio,  some  years  ago.  She 
is  entitled  to  a  record  in  these  pages  on  account  of  her  life-long  relations  to 
the  church  and  her  munificent  gifts  to  Buchtel  College.  Mrs.  Messenger  is 
a  native  of  Massachusetts,  and  was  born  December  30,  1800.  Before  her 
marriage  to  Mr.  Messenger  she  was  engaged  in  teaching,  and  her  interest  in 
education  undoubtedly  dates  from  this  period  of  her  life.  She  had  gradu- 
ated from  an  Eastern  seminary,  and  was  well  prepared  for  usefulness  in  this 
calling.  She  lived  with  Mr.  Messenger  a  long  life  of  mutual  happiness  and 
affection.  Her  son,  William,  was  born  several  years  after  her  marriage,  and 
around  him  were  centered  their  fondest  hopes  of  life  and  happiness.  He 
married  early  and  went  to  Mississippi  to  reside,  where  he  died  at  the  early 
age  of  twenty-seven.     This  bereavement  proved  a  lifelong  sorrow  to  the 


MAJtV    T.    GODDARD.  :;:,:; 

afflicted  parents.  During  the  son's  residence  in  the  South  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Messenger  spent  several  Winters  with  him,  and  after  his  death  took  up  their 
permanent  residence  at  Springfield,  0. 

Mr.  Messenger  was  one  of  the  first  Board  of  Trustees  of  Buchtel  College, 
and  was  deeply  interested  in  the  founding  of  the  institution.  He  contributed 
S  1,000  to  the  building  fund,  and  after  his  death  his  widow  became  actively 
engaged  in  the  welfare  of  the  same  institution.  Through  the  instrumentality 
of  Hon.  J.  R.  Buchtel,  she  endowed  the  chair  of  mental  and  moral  philoso- 
phy, in  memory  of  her  husband,  to  the  munificent  amount  of  $25,000.  She 
lias  also  contributed  largely  to  the  expenses  of  the  institution,  and  given 
again  and  again  for  various  special  purposes,  besides  contributing  nearly 
$2,000  to  the  recent  effort  to  liquidate  the  indebtedness.  Her  contributions 
aggregate  over  $30,000. 

Mrs.  Messenger  now  resides  at  Akron  in  the  family  of  Mr.  Buchtel,  and 
is  passing  a  serene  and  happy  old  age,  whose  greatly  lengthened  shadows  are 
cheered  by  the  consolations  of  Christian  faith,  and  constantly  brightened  by 
the  thought  that  her  work  on  earth  has  not  been  in  vain,  and  that  she  has 
done  much  towards  making  the  institution  successful  to  which  the  last  years 
of  her  husband's  life  were  so  earnestly  devoted. 


MARY  T.  GODDARD. 


BY    REV.    J.    (i.    ADAMS,    D.  D. 


We  are  all  the  more  inclined  to  speak  of  Mrs.  Goddard  in  this  book, 
because  of  the  hesitancy  which  we  know  would  be  manifested  on  her  part, 
should  we  propose  an  "interview"  that  we  might  ascertain  personally  certain 
facts  in  connection  with  her  work  in  behalf  of  our  church  interests,  she  hav- 
ing, as  we  have  reason  to  know,  not  the  least  desire  that  these  duties  most 
conscientiously  done  by  her,  should  be  the  occasion  of  any  trumpeting  of  them 
before  (be  public.     But,  the  saying,  coming  from   the   best  of   sources,  that 


354 


OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


"Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children,"  aud  the  fact  that  the  true  and  faithful 
in  the  Christian  cause  are  worthy  of  heing  mentioned  for  their  own  sakes  and 
for  the  benefit  of  others  who  need  the  inspiration  of  their  example,  prompt 
us  to  venture  upon  the  brief  affirmations  which  follow. 

Mary  Thompson  Frothingham  was  the  daughter  of  Kichard  Frothing- 
ham,  of  Charlestown,  Mass.,  one  of  the  steadfast  members  and  friends  of 
the  Universalist  Society  in  that  place.  The  late  Hon.  Richard  Frothingham, 
the  well-known  historian  of  Charlestown,  was  her  only  brother.  From  her 
earliest  days  she  was  instructed  in  the  doctrines  of  the  church  of  which  she 
afterwards  became  so  true  and  constant  a  helper. 

November  2,  1836,  Miss  Frothingham  was  united  in  marriage  with  Mr. 
Thomas  A.  Goddard,  a  merchant  of  Boston.  Mr.  Goddard  was  a  member 
of  the  Second  Universalist  Church  in  that  city,  and  during  a  part  of  the  long 
pastorate  of  the  senior  Rev.  Hosea  Ballou  of  that  church,  he  was  the  faith- 
ful and  beloved  Superintendent  of  its  Sunday-school.  He  was  in  mind, 
heart  and  character  a  Christian  Universalist,  and  is  honored  and  tenderly 
remembered.  Prosperous  in  business,  he  was  always  liberal  in  his  con- 
contributions  to  the  church  and  the  charities  which  in  a  large  city  were  ever 
making  appeals  to  him  and  his  companion.  From  the  time  of  the  first 
movements  for  the  founding  of  Tufts  College,  he  was  among  its  most  in- 
terested and  generous  helpers,  and  was  one  the  first  treasurers  of  the  institu- 
tion. Mrs.  Goddard  shared  in  all  his  benevolent  solicitudes  and  exertions. 
Soon  after  their  return  from  a  voyage  to  Africa,  in  18GG,  they  removed  to 
Newton,  Mass.,  where  they  had  prepared  an  attractive  home  for  themselves 
during  the  remainder  of  their  lives,  but  the  faithful  husband  departed  this 
life,  July  10,  1868,  leaving  an  honored  name  in  our  churches. 

Mrs.  Goddard  had  enjoyed  the  pastorates  of  Messrs.  Revs.  Hosea  Ballou 
and  E.  H.  Chapin  and  A.  A.  Miner,  D.D.,  at  the  School  Street  Church,  and 
for  sometime  after  her  removal  to  Newton,  continued  to  worship  on  the  Sab- 
bath in  this  place  blessed  to  her  with  such  precious  memories  of  the  past. 
But  when  in  1872  the  Committee  of  the  Massachusetts  Universalist  Conven- 
tion had  taken  successful  steps  to  set  up  a  Universalist  Church  in  Newtonville, 
her  helping  heart  and  hand  were  in  readiness  to  encourage  and  strengthen 
the  new  movement.     It  proved  prosperous  above  the  first  hopes  of  its  most 


ALICE    AND    PHCEBB    CARY.  355 

sanguine  friends.  When  its  first  pastor,  Rev.  J.  Coleman  Adams,  was  called 
to  the  ministry  of  the  church,  Mrs.  Goddard  was  one  of  his  most  helpful 
and  generous  supporters.  She  was  proffered  the  lirst  presidency  of  tin- 
Woman's  Centenary  Association,  hut  declined. 

Mrs.  Goddard  has  in  various  ways  expressed  her  interest  in  the  educa- 
tional movements  of  the  LJniversalist  Church.  When  a  few  years  since  the 
infant  seminary  at  I  Jarre,  Vt.,  hecaine  greatly  embarrassed,  a  devoted  friend 
acting  as  its  agent,  determined  to  make  an  earnest  effort  in  its  behalf.  He 
came  to  Massachusetts,  and  calling  on  Mrs.  Goddard,  the  result  was  Goddard 
Seminary,  now  a  prosperous  and  highly  promising  institution. 

For  years  past,  Tufts  College  has  needed  in  addition  to  its  other  build- 
ings,  a  commodious  chapel,  and  strong  appeals  to  the  generosity  of  the  friends 
of  the  coUege  have  from  time  to  time  been  made  to  this  end.  At  the  last 
Commencement  Day,  the  president  of  the  college  announced  among  other 
benefactions  with  which  the  institution  had  been  favored  during  the  preced- 
ing year,  that  of  §25,000  for  the  new  chapel,  the  generous  gift  of  Mrs. 
Goddard. 

May  such  helpers  be  multiplied,  to  their  honor  and  to  the  prosperity 
and  blessing  of  our  church  and  of  the  Church  Universal. 


ALICE  AND   PHCEBE  CAEY. 

In  the  year  1838  the  columns  of  the  "Sentinel"  (subsequently  the  "Star 
in  the  West"),  in  Cincinnati,  0.,  contained  a  poem  over  the  signature  "A.  C," 
and  soon  after  others  followed  with  the  same  initials,  and  others  with  "P.  C." 
These  w^ere  the  initials  of  Alice  and  Phoebe  Cary,  daughters  of  Robert  Oary, 
a  substantial  and  respected  farmer  of  Mt.  Healthy,  0.,  eight  miles  north  of 
Cincinnati,  whose  house  was  for  many  years  the  ever  hospitable  home  in 
which  the  ministers  of  our  church  found  welcome.  He  died  Feb.  12,  1866. 
He  was  a  lineal  descendant  of  Walter  Cary,  a  Huguenot,  who  left  France  on 


356  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

the  revocation  of  the  edict  of  Nautes,  and  whose  son,  Walter,  came  to  Bridge- 
water,  Mass.,  and  opened  the  first  grammar  school  in  America.  The  mother 
of  these  remarkable  sisters  died  of  consumption,  and  five  of  their  sisters,  all 
women  of  genius,  preceded  them  to  the  immortal  world. 

The  farm  was  a  picturesque  and  fertile  one,  in  the  Miami  valley,  and 
was  reclaimed  by  the  hand  of  Eobert  Cary  from  the  aboriginal  wilderness. 
Here,  until  she  was  twelve,  Alice,  the  fourth  daughter,  played  and  worked, 
dreamed  and  thougbt,  and  absorbed  that  love  of  nature  that  never  deserted 
her,  and  that  always  characterized  her  writings.     She  describes  the  scene : 

"Low  and  little  and  black  and  old. 
With  children,  many  as  it  can  hold. 
All  at  the  windows  open  wide. 
Heads   and  shoulders  clear  outside, 
And  fair  young  faces  all  ablush, 
Perhaps  you  may  have  seen  some  day 
Roses  crowding  the  self-same  way. 
Out  of  a  wilding  wayside  bush." 

In  1832,  after  a  great  struggle,  the  farm  had  been  paid  for  and  a  new 
house  built.  In  1834  two  of  the  daughters,  one  a  child  and  one  a  young 
woman,  Alice's  inseparable  companion,  were  smitten  by  death,  and  soon  the 
mother  followed,  July  13,  1835,  leaving  Alice  at  fifteen  motherless,  and  with 
sisters  too  young  or  too  old  to  be  her  companions.  But  her  father  was  a 
grand  man,  of  "great  intelligence,  sound  principles  and  blameless  life," 
writes  Phoebe,  "a  tender,  loving  father,  who  sang  his  children  to  sleep  with 
holy  hymns,  and  habitually  went  about  his  work  repeating  the  words  of  the 
grand,  old  Hebrew  poets,  and  the  sweet  and  precious  promises  of  the  New 
Testament  of  our  Lord."     And  of  her  mother,  Elizabeth  (Jessup),  she  writes: 

"She  held  her  home    beneath  a  hand. 
As  steady  and  serene. 
As  though  it  were  a  palace,  and 
As  though  she  were  a  queen," 

Alice  was  born  April  2G,  1820.  She  began  writing  for  the  press  at  the 
early  age  of  eighteen,  and  for  some  time  confined  her  published  poems  to  our 
denominational  journals.  At  length  she  wrote  for  the  "National  Era,"  and 
other  prints,  and   soon  achieved  a  wide  reputation  as  a  poetical  and   prose 


ALICE    AND    PHCEBE    CAIiY.  357 

writer,  contributing  to  the  "Independent,"  "New  York  Ledger,"  "Atlantic," 
"Harpers'  "  and  other  publications.  In  18-iO,  with  her  sister  Phoebe,  she  pub- 
lished a  volume  of  poems.     Next  year  the  "Clover-nook  Papers"  appeared, 

and  in  1858  "Lyra  and  Other  Poems."  These  volumes  were  followed  by 
"Hagar,"  "Married,  not  Mated,"  "Holyrood"  and  other  works. 

In  1850  she  removed  to  New  York,  where  she  and  her  sister  resided  until 
the  time  of  their  death,  their  home  being  one  of  the  great  literary  centers  of 
the  city,  and  their  Sunday  evening  receptions  among  the  most  attractive 
gatherings  of  the  great  metropolis. 

Alice  was  for  many  years  the  victim  of  a  painful  cancerous  disease, 
which  made  her  a  great  sufferer,  but  she  kept  a  cheerful  heart,  and  was  sus- 
tained and  blessed  by  the  religious  faith  in  which  she  was  assured.  Her 
last  Winter  was  one  of  great  physical  suffering.  She  could  only  walk  with 
the  aid  of  crutches.  Her  nerves  were  tortured  by  the  noises  of  the  street, 
and  she  fled  to  Northampton,  and  then  to  Vermont,  carried  from  place  to 
place  by  loving  hands.  She  returned  home  and  gradually  but  continually 
failed. 

As  her  strength  declined  she  reverted  to  her  childhood's  hymns,  and  to 
passages  of  Scripture,  which  she  repeated.  On  February  7th  she  wrote  her 
last  lines,  "The  rainbow  comes  but  with  the  storm,"  and  endeavored  to 
make  a  cap  for  an  aged  woman,  but  the  work  was  never  completed,  and 
February  12th  her  pure  spirit  was  released  from  its  fetters  of  clay.  She  was 
buried  from  the  Church  of  the  Strangers,  Eev.  C.  F.  Deems  conducting  the  ob- 
sequies. All  the  members  of  Sorosis  were  present,  and  eminent  literary  and 
other  people. 

Her  pallbearers  were  P.  T.  Barnum,  Horace  Greeley,  Bayard  Taylor, 
Dr.  W.  F.  Holcombe,  Oliver  Johnson,  A.  J.  Johnson,  F.  B.  Carpenter 
and  Richard  B.  Kimball,  nearly  all  devoted  friends,  of  her  own  religious 
faith. 

The  good  Horace  Greeley  followed  the  remains  to  Greenwood,  notwith- 
standing the  terrible  storm  that  prevailed. 

Alice  was  not  only  a  poet,  but  she  was  full  of  an  intense  sympathy  with 
nature  and  mankind,  had  a  most  loving  disposition,  a  rare  insight  into  spir- 
itual things,  and  won  all  hearts  by  her  sweetness  and  grace  of  manner. 


358 


OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


Phoebe  says,  "Her  affections  were  deep  and  steadfast,  and  her  heart  large 
enough  not  only  to  hold  the  whole  human  race  in  its  love,  but  all  dumb  and 
helpless  creatures  as  well." 

Alice's  poems  are  always  tender,  sweet,  musical,  and  her  prose  singu- 
larly pure  and  elegant.  Her  name  has  become  a  household  word  in  all  parts 
of  our  country,  and  her  genius  wiU  be  felt  in  generations  to  come.  In  one 
sense  not  great,  her  poems  are  in  the  best  sense.  They  are  not  surpassed  in 
tenderness,  sweetness,  spirituality,  purity.  The  red  blood  of  a  good  woman's 
heart  circulates  in  every  hne,  and  the  light  and  warmth  of  a  heavenly  at- 
mosphere surrounds  and  pervades  all  she  wrote. 

Alice  was  the  first  elected  president  of  Sorosis,  the  celebrated  woman's 
club  of  New  York,  but  her  health  and  her  extreme  modesty  caused  her  to 
resign  the  position. 

We  here  give  the  poem  that  Alice  considered  her  best,  and  another 
which  will  always  be  a  popular  favorite. 

THE    SURE    WITNESS. 

The  solemn  wood  had  spread 

Shadows  around   my  head, 

"Curtains  they  are,"  I  said, 
"Hung  dim  and  still  about  the  house  of  prayer." 

Softly  among  the  limbs, 

Turning  the  leaves  of  hymns, 
I  heard  the  winds,  and  asked  if   God  were  there, 
No  voice  replied,  but  while  I  listening  stood, 
Sweet  peace  made  holy  hushes  through  the    wood. 

With  ruddy  open  hand, 

I  saw  the  wild  rose  stand, 
Beside  the  green  gate  of  the  Summer  hills, 

And  pulling  at  her  dress, 

I  cried,   "Sweet  hermitess. 
Hast  thou   beheld   him  who  the  dew  distils?" 
No  voice  replied,   hut    while  I  listening  bent, 
Her  gracious  beauty  made   my  heart  content. 

Th''  moon  in  splender  shone, 
"She  walketh  Heaven  alone, 
And  seeth  all   things,"  to   myself  I  mused; 
"Hast  thou  beheld  him  thru. 
Who  hides  himsolf   from   men, 


ALICE    AND    PHCEBE    CAEY.  359 

In  that  great  power  though   nature  interfused, 
No  speech  made  answer  and   no   sign   appeared, 
But  in  the  silence  I  was  soothed  and  cheered. 

"Walking  ono  time,  strange  awe 

Thrilling  my  soul,    I  saw 
A  kingly  splendor  round  about  the  night, 

Such  cunning  work  the  hand 

Of  spinner  never  planned, 
The  finest  wool  may   not  be  washed  so  white, 
"Hast  thou  come  out  of   hoaven?"    I  asked,  and  lo! 
The  snuw  was  nil  the  answer  of  the  snow. 

Then   my  heart  said,  "Give  o'er, 

Question  no   more,   no  more, 
The  wind,  the  snow-storm,   the  wild  hermit  flower; 

The   illuminated   air, 

The  pleasure  after  prayer, 
Proclaim  the  unoriginated  power; 
The  mystery  that  hides  him  here  and  there, 
Bears  the  sure  witness  he  is  everywhere." 


PICTURES    OF    MEMORY. 

Among  the  beautiful  pictures 

That   hang  on  memory's  wall. 
Is  one  of  a  dim  old  forest. 

That    seemeth    best  of  all; 
Not  for  its  gnarled  oaks  olden. 

Dark  with  the  mistletoe; 
Not  for  the  violets  golden, 

That    sprinkle   the   vale   below; 
Not  for  the  milk-white   lilies, 

That  lean  from  the  fragrant  ledge; 
Coquetting  all  day  with  th"  sunbeams. 

Ami   stealing   their  golden   edge; 
Not  for  the   vines  on  the   upland, 

Where   the   bright    red   berries   rest; 
Nor  the  pink,   nop  tie   pale  sweet  cowslips, 

It    seemeth    to    me    the   tiest. 

I  once  had  a  little  brother 

With  eyes   that    were   dark    and   deep; 
In  the   lap  of  the   old   dim    forest. 

He   lieth  in   peace   asleep. 
Light   as   the   down   on   the  thistle, 


3(30  OUK    WOMAN     WOBKEES. 

Free  as  the  winds  that  blow, 
We  roved  there  the  beautiful  Summers- 

The  Summers  of  long  ago; 
But  his  feet  0:1  the  hills  grew  weary. 

And  one  of  the  Autumn  eves, 
I  made  for  my  little  brother 

A  bed  of  the  yellow  leaves. 

Sweetly  his  rale  arms  folded 

My  neck  in  a  meek  embrace, 
As  the  light  of  immortal  beauty 

Silently  covered  his  face; 
And  when  the  arrows  of  sunset 

Lodged  in  the  tree-tops  bright, 
He  fell  in  his  saint-like  beauty 

Asleep  by  the  gates  of  light; 
Therefore,  of  all  the  pictures 

That  hang  on   memory's  wall. 
The  one  of  the  dim  old  forest 

Seemeth  the  best  of   all. 


Mrs.  M.  Louise  Thomas,  to  whom  we  have  beeu  indebted  for  the  oppor- 
tunity to  consult  a  large  amount  of  material  pertaining  to  the  lives  of  the 
Cary  sisters,  which  she  had  accumulated,  was  for  many  years  their  intimate 
and  confidential  friend.  She  passed  weeks  at  their  house  during  the  last 
months  of  Alice's  life,  and  possesses  a  most  valuable  store  of  precious  remi- 
niscence. On  one  occasion  she  asked  Alice  which  of  her  poems  she  con- 
sidered better  than  any  others.  She  named  "The  Sure  Witness,"  and  "An 
Order  for  a  Picture,"  but  the  public  verdict  would  be  in  favor  of  "Among 
the  Beautiful  Pictures. "  Referring  to  her  niece,  Ada  Carnahan,  she  said,  "  She 
is  far  superior,  as  a  poet,  to  myself. "  Phoebe  told  Mrs.  Thomas  that  she  was 
very  much  tried  by  the  report  that  Alice  had  been  indifferent  to  her  religious 
faith,  because  Dr.  Deems  had  conducted  her  funeral  services,  a  report  that 
was  encouraged  by  the  language  of  Doctor  Deems,  in  styling  hiinself  her 
pastor,  and  in  making  no  reference  to  her  religious  faith,  in  his  remarks. 
The  fact  is  that  Alice  was  in  no  sense  a  member  of  his  church,  and  that  he 
was  selected  because  of  his  acquaintance  and  frequent  attendance  at  the" 
house.  A  movement  was  on  foot  to  place  a  memorial  window  in  Dr.  Deems' 
church,    "The  Church  of  the  Strangers,"  and  when  Phoebe  heard  of  it  she 


ALICE    AND    PHOEBE    CARY.  3d 

sent  for  Dr.  Deems,  and  so  earnestly  protested  against  tho  movement,  as  cal- 
culated to  do  injustice  to  her  sister's  religious  faith,  that  it  was  abandoned, 
and  the  money  subscribed  was  appropriated  to  her  monument.  She  often 
insisted  that  when  her  own  death  should  occur,  one  of  the  ministers  of  her 
own  cherished  faith  should  be  engaged,  and  as  those  in  the  neighborhood 
were  away  on  their  Summer  vacations  at  the  time  of  her  death,  an  old 
friend  of  many  years,  Rev.  A.  G.  Laurie,  of  Erie,  Pa.,  was  summoned  by 
telegraph  to  attend. 

Referring  to  her  parents  and  to  Alice,  Phoebe  writes: 

"Both  husband  and  wife  were  among  the  early  converts  to  Universal- 
ism,  and  the  '  Trumpet'  read  by  them  from  the  publication  of  its  first  num- 
ber to  the  close  of  their  lives,  was  for  many  years  the  only  paper  seen  by 
Alice.  Though  singularly  liberal  and  unsectarian  in  her  views,  she  always 
preserved  a  strong  attachment  to  the  church  of  her  parents,  and  in  the  main 
accepted  its  doctrines.  Caring  little  for  creed  and  minor  points,  she  most 
firmly  believed  in  human  brotherhood,  as  taught  by  Jesus,  and  in  a  God 
whose  loving  kindness  is  so  deep  and  so  unchangeable,  that  there  can  never 
come  a  time  to  even  the  vilest  sinner,  in  all  the  ages  of  eternity,  when,  if  he 
arise  and  go  to  him,  his  Father  will  not  see  him  afar  off,  and  have  compas- 
sion upon  him.  In  this  faith  which  she  has  so  often  sung,  she  lived,  and 
wrought,  and  hoped,  and  in  this  faith  which  grew  stronger,  deeper  and  more 
assured  with  years  of  trial  and  sorrow  and  sickness,  she  passed  from  death 
ttnto  life." 

And  Mary  Clemmer  Ames,  in  her  biography,  says,  "Justice  tempered 
by  love,  the  supreme  attribute  of  her  own  nature,  ran  into  her  individual 
conceptions  of  God,  and  of  his  dealings  with  the  human  race,  she  believed 
that  the  opportunity  would  come  to  every  human  being,  that  everything  that 
God  had  made  would  have  its  chances,  if  not  in  tins  existence,  then  in  an- 
other. Without  this  faith,  at  times,  human  life  woidd  have  been  to  her  in- 
tolerable." 

It  was  her  soul's  consolation  to  say: 

Nay,  but  'tis  not  tho  end; 

God  were  not  God,   if  such  a  thing  could  be, 
If  not  in  time,  then  in  eternity, 
24 


362  0UI1    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


There  must   be  room  for  penitence  to  mead 
Life's  broken  chance,  else  noise  of  wars 
Would  unmake  heaven. 


She  thus  expresses  her  faith : 

We  are  mariners  and  God  the  sea, 
And  though  we  make  false  reckonings  and  run 
Wide  of  a  righteous  course,  and  are  undone. 
Out  of  his  deeps  of  love  we  cannot  be. 

For,  by  those   heavy  strokes  we  misname  ill, 
Through  the  fierce  fire  of  sin,  this  tempering  doubt. 
Our  natures  more  and  more  are  beaten  out, 
To  perfecter  reflections  of  his  will. 

Of  course  there  were  bigots  who  endeavored  to  defraud  our  faith  of  so 
saintly  and  eminent  an  advocate  as  Alice  Cary.  Henry  Ward  Beecher  re- 
plied to  one  of  them,  in  very  severe  language,  in  the  "Christian  Union," 
closing  thus,  "As  for  Miss  Cary,  we  know,  from  many  a  long  and  earnest 
conference  with  her  on  such  subjects,  how  immovable  was  her  faith  in  the 
final  restoration  of  all  souls  to  the  image  and  favor  of  God;  and  how  com- 
patible was  this  faith,  not  only  in  her  case,  but  in  that  of  hundreds  of  others, 
with  a  genuine  and  most  attractive  piety.  In  view  of  the  fact  that  we  who 
hold  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment  can  not  bear  to  dweU  upon  it,  and 
dare  not  ask  of  God  to  help  us  realize  it,  is  it  not  a  grievous  wrong  that  those 
who  are  impelled  to  withhold  their  assent  to  it,  should  for  that  reason  be  set 
beyond  the  pale  of  Christian  charity  not  only,  .but  too  often  of  common 
courtesy?" 


Phoebe  was  bom  Sept.  4,  1824.  She  was  as  self-reliant  and  exuberant 
in  her  manners,  as  her  sister  was  timid  and  thoughtful.  Her  prominent 
trait  was  humor.  She  was  believed  by  many  of  her  friends  to  be  the  wittiest 
of  women,  and  the  rare  Sunday  evening  gatherings  for  which  their  pleasant 
home  was  famous  for  fifteen  years,  were  always  brightened  by  her  brilliant 
wit,  which  was  as  characteristic  of  her  personality  as  is  the  perfume  of  the 


ALICE    AND   PHCEBE    CARY.  ggg 

rose.  Sometimes  her  wit  would  coruscate  like  pyrotechnics  for  a  half  hour. 
To  these  gatherings  came  men  and  women  of  all  creeds,  authors,  artists, 
clergymen,  musicians,  scientists,  and  whoever  was  the  special  lion  of  any 
evening,  Alice  and  Phoebe  were  always  the  magnetic  centres  of  two  delight- 
ed groups,  and  good  Horace  Greeley  was  always  present  for  a  while  before 
disappearing,  to  give  a  temperance  address  or  listen  to  the  greatest  pulpit 
orator  of  this  generation,  Rev.  Dr.  Chapin. 

Though  inferior  in  the  main  as  a  poet  to  her  sister,  she  wrote  one  hymn 
in  a  moment  of  happy  inspiration,  that  surpassed  anything  Alice  ever  wrote 
— "One  Sweetly  Solemn  Thought." 

The  beautiful  philosophy  of  life  that  made  her  the  sunny  soul  she  was, 
grew  out  of  her  comprehensive  faith  in  universal  salvation,  the  expression  of 
which  is  found  in  her  "Woman's  Conclusions:  " 

Yea,  I  said,  if  a  miracle  such  as  this 

Could  be  wrought  for  me,  at   my  bidding,  still 
I  would  choose  to  have  my  past  as  it  is, 

And  let  my  future  come  as  it  will. 

************* 

So  Let  my  past  stand  just   as  it  stands, 

And  Let  me  now,  as  I  may.  grow  old; 
I  ant  what  I  am.  and  my  Life  for  me 

Is  the   best— or  it  had  not   been,   I  hold. 

Phoebe's  first  articles  were  prose  in  the  "National  Era,"  Washington.  In 
1850  was  published  "Poems  of  Alice  and  Phoebe  Cary."  In  1851  "Poems 
and  Parodies"  by  Plnebe.  In  1868,  "Poems  of  Faith,  Hope  and  Love,"  by 
Phoebe,  her  last  volume.  She  aided  Rev.  Dr.  Deems  in  the  selection  of  a 
choice  hymnal,  "Hymns  for  ah  Christians." 

Her  best  poem  was  hastily  thrown  off  one  Sunday  morning  after  return- 
ing from  church.     We  give  it  as  finally  revised  by  herself  : 

One  Bweetly  solemn  thought 

Comes  tu  me  o'er  and  o'er: 
I'm  nearer  to  my   home  to-day 

Than  I  ever  have  been  before, 

Nearer  my  Father's  house, 

Where   the    many   mansions  be; 
Nearer  the  great  white  throne. 

Nearer  the  crystal  sea. 


364 


OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Nearer  the  bound  of  life, 

Where  we  lay  our  burdens  down; 
Nearer  leaving  the  cross, 

Nearer  gaining  the    crown. 

But  the  waves  of  that  silent  sea 
Roll  dark  before  my  sight, 

That  brightly  on  the  other  side 
Break  on  a  shore  of  light. 

0,  if  my  mortal  feet 

Have  almost  gained  the  brink, 
If  it  be  I'm  nearer  home 

Even  to-day  than  I  think, 

Father,  perfect  my  trust, 

Let  my  spirit  feel  in  death 

That  her  feet  are  firmly  set, 

On  the  rock  of   a  living  faith. 


It  is  sometimes  said  that  our  faith  has  no  power  to  reclaim  the  sinner. 
Let  this  incident  refute  the  mistaken  charge : 

A  gentleman  in  China,  intrusted  with  a  package  for  a  young  man  from 
his  friends  in  the  United  States,  learned  that  he  would  probably  be  found 
in  a  certain  gambling  house.  He  went  thither,  but  not  seeing  the  young 
man,  sat  down  and  waited  in  the  hope  that  he  might  come  in.  The  place 
was  a  bedlam  of  noises,  men  getting  angry  over  their  cards,  and  frequently 
coming  to  blows.  Near  him  sat  two  men — one  young,  the  other  forty 
years  of  age.  They  were  betting  and  drinking  in  a  terrible  way,  the  older 
one  giving  utterance  continually  to  the  foulest  profanity.  Two  games  had 
been  finished,  the  young  man  losing  each  time.  The  third  game,  with  fresh 
bottles  of  brandy,  had  just  begun,  and  the  young  man  sat  lazily  back  in  his 
chair  while  the  oldest  shuffled  his  cards.  The  man  was  a  long  time  dealing 
the  cards,  and  the  young  man,  looking  carelessly  about  the  room,  began  to 
sing  the  hymn  of  Phoebe  Cary  above  quoted.  "The  words,"  says  the  writer 
of  the  story,  "repeated  in  such  a  vile  jilace  at  first  made  me  shudder.  A  Sab- 
bath-school hymn  in  a  gambling  den!"     But  while  the  young  man  sang,  the 


ALICE    AND    PH05BE    CAST.  865 

elder  stopped  dealing  the  cards,  stared  at  the  singer  a  moment,  and  throwing 
the  cards  on  the  floor  exclaimed,  "Harry,  where  did  you  learn  that  tune?" 
"What  tune?"  "Why,  that  one  you've  been  singing."  The  young  man 
said  he  did  not  know  what  he  had  been  singing,  when  the  elder  repeated  the 
winds,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  the  young  man  said  he  had  learned  them 
in  a  Sunday-school  in  America.  "Come,"  said  the  elder,  getting  up;  "come, 
Harry,  here's  what  I  have  won  from  you ;  go  and  use  it  for  some  good  pur- 
pose. As  for  me,  as  God  sees  me,  I  have  played  my  last  game,  and  drunk 
my  last  bottle.  I  have  misled  you,  Harry,  and  I  am  sorry.  Give  me  your 
hand,  my  boy,  and  say  that,  for  old  America's  sake,  if  for  no  other,  you  will 
quit  this  infernal  business."  The  gentleman  who  tells  the  stoiy  (originally 
published  in  the  Boston  "Daily  News")  saw  these  two  men  leave  the  gambling 
house  together,  and  walk  away  arm  in  arm;  and  he  remarks,  "It  must  be  a 
source  of  great  joy  to  Miss  Gary  td  know  that  her  lines,  which  have  com- 
forted so  many  Christian  hearts,  have  been  the  means  of  awakening  in  the 
breast  of  two  tempted  and  erring  men  on  the  other  side  of  the  globe,  a  reso- 
lution to  lead  a  better  life."  It  wras  a  source  of  great  joy  to  Miss  Cary,  as 
we  happen  to  know.  Before  us  lies  a  private  letter  from  her  to  an  aged 
friend  in  this  city  (Horace  Greeley)  with  the  printed  story  inclosed,  and  con- 
taining this  comment,  "I  inclose  the  hymn  and  the  story  for  you,  not  because 
I  am  vain  of  the  notice,  but  because  I  thought  you  would  feel  a  peculiar  in- 
terest in  them  wdien  you  know  the  hymn  was  written  eighteen  years  ago 
(1844)  in  your  home.  I  composed  it  in  the  little  back  third  story  bedroom, 
one  Sunday  morning,  after  coming  from  church;  and  it  makes  me  feel  very 
happy  to  think  that  any  word  I  could  say  has  done  a  little  good  in  the  world." 

After  the  intimate  society  and  affection  which  the  sisters  had  so  long 
shared,  it  was  unnatural  that  Phoebe  should  live  when  her  sister  had  gone. 
She  never  reacted  from  the  terrible  nervous  and  mental  strain  of  her  long 
illness,  and,  failing  day  by  day,  she  followed  her  in  a  few  months.  July  81, 
1871.  The  incarnation  of  health,  she  rapidly  sunk,  without  apparent  disease, 
till  she  was  re-united  to  the  loved  one. 

Not  quite  equal  intellectually,  she  had  fine  gifts  and  rare  culture,  and 
was  able  by  her  hvely  temperament  to  fill  the  home  with  sunshine,  and  sup- 


306  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

plement  the  characteristics  of  her  eminent  sister.  She  died  in  Newport  and 
her  remains  were  brought  to  her  New  York  home  and  carried  to  All  Souls' 
Church  (Unitarian),  on  account  of  its  convenience,  and  Rev.  A.  G.  Lawrie, 
who  discovered  and  prophesied  her  genius  thirty  years  before,  pronounced  a 
eidogy,  aided  by  Bernard  Peters,  formerly  of  our  ministry,  who  had  been 
their  pastor  in  Cincinnati.  A  large  number  of  men  and  women  eminent  in 
letters  were  present.  The  services  were  closed  with  her  immortal  hymn. 
The  remains  were  deposited  in  Greenwood  Cemetery,  where  now  the  three 
deserted  clay-tenements  of  the  three  sisters  lie  side  by  side. 

Mrs.  M.  Louise  Thomas  describes  them  from  long  and  intimate  ac- 
quaintance : 

"Alice  was  tall,  graceful  and  exceedingly  noble  in  person,  with  a  smooth, 
gliding  step  as  she  walked.  Her  hair  was  long,  brown,  silken  and  wavy,  and 
she  wore  it  loosely  coiled  and  fastened  with  a  comb  low  at  the  back  of  her 
head.  Her  eyes  were  a  beautiful  brown,  with  a  wistful,  tender  sadness 
in  them.  Her  lips  were  thin  and  sensitive,  yet  with  a  firm,  dignified  ex- 
pression, and  her  chin  was  round  and  full.  Of  the  two  she  was  spiritually 
and  mentally  the  stronger,  and  the  true  head  of  the  house.  Her  courage 
and  industry  never  failed,  she  wrought  early  and  late  even  after  disease  laid 
its  hands  upon  her. 

"Phoebe  was  rather  short  and  plump,  with  black  hair,  a  quiet  step,  black 
eyes  and  a  dark  olive  complexion.  She  was  strikingly  Oriental  in  manner 
and  appearance,  bright,  vivacious  and  wonderfully  witty  in  conversation.  It 
was  a  wit  that  was  sparkling,  spontaneous  and  natural,  just  as  bright  and 
ready  when  she  was  alone  with  one  friend,  as  in  the  most  brilliant  assembly 
— the  quickest  repartee,  the  neatest  turns,  the  most  refined  suggestion — she 
well  deserved  the  name  given  to  her,  'The  wittiest  woman  in  America.'  It 
would  be  impossible  to  repeat  her  witty  sayings  as  they  fell  from  her  lips. 
They  came  like  beautiful  pearls,  a  constant  surprise  even  to  those  who  knew 
her  best. 

"They  both  loved  their  friends,  but  Phoebe  was  more  influenced  by  other 
minds  than  Alice ;  she  was  less  self-reliant  and  less  strong. " 

Oliver  Johnson,  in  the  "Tribune,"  gave  this  tribute,  "Her  religious  sen- 
timents were  deep  and  strong,  her  faith  in  the  eternal  goodness  unwavering. 


ALICE    AND    PHCBBE    CARY.  367 

Educated  in  the  faith  of  Universalism,  she  believed  to  the  last  in  the  final 
salvation  of  all  God's  children.  On  this  subject  she  spoke  to  the  writer  with 
great  distinctness  and  emphasis  only  a  few  weeks  before  her  death,  and  once 
she  indicated  her  faith  by  repeating  with  approbation  the  remark  of  one  who 
said,  in  reply  to  the  argument  in  favor  of  endless  misery,  'Well,  if  God  ever 
sends  me  into  such  misery,  I  know  he  will  give  me  a  constitution  to  bear  it.'  " 

Keferring  to  the  religious  faith  of  the  sisters  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas  writes 
to  us: 

"The  writer  knew  them  in  the  closest  intimacy  of  personal  friendship 
from  the  year  1844,  was  with  them  in  their  closing  sickness,  and  stood  by 
the  open  grave  at  Greenwood  when  each  in  turn  was  quietly  borne  to  her 
final  rest,  and  can  testify  without  reserve  to  their  abiding  trust  and  steadfast 
belief  in  the  religious  faith  in  which  they  were  reared.  Their  belief  in  the 
final  salvation  of  all  created  souls,  was  the  one  strongest  of  all  ties  that 
bound  us  together  as  sisters  in  spirit.  They  were  never  dogmatic,  bigoted 
nor  sectarian  in  any  narrow  sense,  but  they  were  both  distinctively  and 
openly  professed  Universalists.  They  welcomed  into  the  circle  of  their 
friendship,  persons  of  every  shade  of  religious  thought  and  feeling,  with  the 
most  generous  catholicity  of  spirit,  and  this  sometimes  caused  their  position 
to  be  misunderstood." 

A  younger  sister,  Elmina,  was  full  of  promise,  but  died  after  a  long  ill- 
ness, which  could  not  be  described  better  than  by  our  own  dear  friend,  and 
one  of  the  most  richly  endowed  of  all  our  ministry,  Rev.  A.  G.  Laurie,  who 
conducted  the  funeral  of  Phoebe,  "They  had  a  younger  sister,  in  face,  spirit 
and  disposition  loveliest  among  women.  Each  time  I  looked  at  her,  Elmina 
seemed  to  me  to  have  come  down  from  heaven,  bringing  its  light  and  love 
along  with  her  to  shed  them  on  everybody  near  her.  And  through  ten  pa- 
tient and  smiling  years  of  bodily  decay  and  spiritual  cheer,  I  watched  her,  on 
the  arm  of  Christ,  passing  back  to  heaven."  She  married  Alex.  Swift,  of 
Cincinnati,  whose  previous  wife  was  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  family,  Susan 
Cary.  Elmina  was  named  for  the  daughter  of  Hosea  Ballon,  the  wife  of 
Rev.  J.  C.  Waldo,  a  sketch  of  whom  is  on  page  76  of  this  volume. 

The  other  children  were,  Rowena,  born  1814,  married  Isaac  V.  Carna- 
han,  and  died  1869;  Rhoda,  born  1818,  died  1883;  Asa,  born  1822;  Warren, 


368  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

born  1826;  Lucy,  bom  1829,  died  1833.  Their  only  descendants  living  are 
Mrs.  Ada  C.  Norton,  Mrs.  Lucy  A.  Thomas,  daughters  of  Rowena  and  two 
sons  of  Warren. 

The  homestead  of  the  Cary  family,  "Clovernook,"  house  and  grounds, 
has  been  purchased  by  Alexander  Swift,  Esq.,  and  given  to  Cincinnati  as  a 
public  park,  this  year,  1881.  On  the  day  of  its  consecration  Mr.  Swift  de- 
scribed how  forty-three  years  ago  he  made  his  first  visit  to  the  Cary  home- 
stead, where  he  found  a  father,  four  daughters  and  two  sons;  how  forty-one 
years  ago  he  stood  up  with  the  second  daughter,  Susan,  in  the  best  room, 
and  was  married  to  her  by  the  Rev.  George  Rogers,  a  divine  of  the  Univers- 
alist  denomination,  and  how,  many  years  after,  he  wedded  the  youngest  girl, 
Elmina,  who  is  also  numbered  with  the  dead.  He  read  "Our  Homestead," 
and  stopped  between  lines  to  point  out  the  "apple  boughs  that  almost  cast 
their  fruit  upon  the  roof. "  The  cherry  tree  whose  limbs  creaked  against  the 
panes,  the  old  well,  the  sweetbriar  bush,  and  grand  old  well-sweep,  and 
damask  rose  beside  the  gate  were  gone,  but  their  places  were  known,  and 
they  were  -called  up  before  the  listeners.  Phoebe's  hymn.  "Nearer  Home," 
which  was  written  by  her  when  Mr.  Swift  was  in  New  York,  was  recited  by 
Mr.  Swift. 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  delightful  to  these  rare  spirits  than  to 
know  that  the  old  home  they  loved  so  well  was  to  be  consecrated  to  the 
pubhc  as  it  now  is,  by  the  munificence  of  the  generous  giver. 


CLAKA   BARTON. 

Whatever  strong-armed  man  hath  wrought,  whatever  he  hath  won. 
That  goal  hath   woman  also  reached,  that  action  hath  she  dono. 

TMost  of  the  following  sketcli  has  been  written  expressly  for  this  vol- 
ume bv  R.  J.  Hinton,  Esq.,  the  eminent  journalist,  editor  of  the  "Gazette," 
Wasbington,  D.  C.     As  it  reached  me  so  late,  I  was  .forced  to  abbreviate  and 


CLARA    P.ARTON. 


CLARA    BARTON.  869 

supplement  it  lure  and  there,  to  my  great  regret.  My  own  additions  are  in 
brackets.] 

Clara  Barton  illustrates  by  her  ancestral  associations  the  sources  of  char- 
acter whose  actions  would  have  made  her  world-famous  in  earlier  days.  The 
Bartons  are  of  early  Puritan  stock.  Tall,  strongly  framed,  dark  of  complex- 
ion, firmly  limbed,  with  marked  features,  black  hair  and  very  dark  gray  eyes. 
Miss  Barton's  face  shows  power.  Her  eyes  indicate  an  introspective  spirit, 
where  her  broad  forehead  shows  intellectual  strength,  her  voice,  so  low, 
sweet,  yet  fine  and  tensely  toned,  has  a  musical  timbre  in  it,  which  when 
its  possessor  is  roused,  can  become  clear  and  resonant  with  deep  contralto 
notes,  and  tones  having  marked  oratorical  effects  concealed  in  and  convey- 
able  by  them.  [Her  voice  is  an  ideal  one,  sweet  and  low,  and  modulated 
with  heart-tones,  though  her  reticence  of  speech  and  modesty  of  demeanor 
do  not  permit  her  to  be  given  to  much  speaking.] 

Captain  Stephen  Barton,  the  father  of  Clara,  was  one  of  ten  children. 
He  was  born  in  Massachusetts  and  entered  the  army  under  "Mad  Anthony 
Wayne,"  at  twenty-one.  He  served  against  Indians  and  in  the  West  for 
three  years,  being  present  at  Detroit  when  Wayne's  treaty  was  made.  He 
was  discharged  and  returned  to  Central  Massachusetts,  where  some  years 
after  he  married  Miss  Dolly  Stone,  daughter  of  Capt.  Stone,  of  Oxford. 
Miss  Stone  was  some  years  younger,  of  rare  beauty  of  face  and  form,  excel- 
lent education,  and  personal  qualities  which  ripened  into  a  vigorous  and  de- 
termined character.  Possessing  a  wonderful  control  both  over  himself  and 
others,  of  a  character  whose  strong  traits  were  fortitude,  integrity  and  deter- 
mination, he  was  naturally  a  leader  among  men.  In  religion  he  was  one  of 
the  early  Universalists,  one  of  the  founders  and  supporters  of  that  society  in 
his  native  town,  this  society  being  one  of  the  first  to  erect  a  church  in  Ox- 
ford. As  a  young  man  he  heard  Hosea  Ballon  perform  his  part  at  the  dedi- 
cation services  of  the  church.  From  that  time  on  that  church  had  no  more 
staunch  supporter,  nor  its  principles  a  more  determined  and  able  defender 
than  he.  In  that  faith  he  reared  his  family,  and  so  well  grounded  were  the 
instructions  given,  and  so  well  supported  the  principles  inculcated,  that  no 
one  of  them  ever  felt  it  necessary  to  seek  another  faith. 

The  subject  of  this  sketch  was  the  youngest  of  a  family  of  five  children. 


;,7;;  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

two  sons  and  three  daughters.  She  was  born  in  Oxford.  As  a  child  her  in- 
struction was  directed  chiefly  by  her  brothers  and  sisters,  three  of  whom 
were  teachers,  and  at  a  very  early  age  she  chose  that  profession  for  herself. 
The  strong  point  of  her  father's  character  was  her  most  prominent  charac- 
teristic. After  some  years  spent  in  teaching  in  the  public  schools  of  her  na- 
tive town,  she  closed  her  own  school  course  at  the  Clinton  Liberal  Institute, 
under  control  of  the  Eev.  Dr.  Sawyer,  enjoying  the  immediate  and  excellent 
instructions  of  Miss  Louise  M.  Barker,  whose  life  and  memory  have  always 
remained  most  dear  to  her.  She  resumed  teaching  in  Hightstown,  N.  J., 
and  became  a  member  of  the  family  of  Eichard  M.  Norton,  that  pa- 
triarch of  Universalism  and  the  father  of  Mary  Norton,  where  ripened  a 
friendship  which  the  succeeding  years  have  only  served  to  deepen.  The  fol- 
lowing year  found  her  opening  the  public  schools  at  Bordentown,  N.  J., 
where  she  commenced  with  six  pupils,  in  a  neglected,  somewhat  dilapidated 
stone  school-house  of  small  dimensions,  the  only  school-room  in  the  town. 
At  the  end  of  eighteen  months  she  left  there  a  school  of  six  hundred  pupils 
in  a  fine  brick  edifice,  built  at  a  cost  of  $4,000,  the  present  public  school 
building  of  Bordentown. 

Failing  in  voice  she  went  to  Washington,  D.  C,  for  a  milder  climate, 
and  after  some  months  spent  in  recovering  her  voice  and  recuperating  her 
strength,  she  assumed  a  clerkship  in  the  patent  office,  under  Hon.  Charles 
Mason's  commission.  Miss  Barton  was  the  first  woman  to  receive  an  ap- 
pointment as  government  clerk  upon  her  own  individual  merits  and  fitness 
for  the  position. 

Her  experiences  were  not  wholly  of  a  pleasant  character.  It  was  no 
uncommon  thing  for  a  majority  of  the  male  clerks  to  turn  out  into  the  corri- 
dors of  the  department  to  indulge  in  vulgar  witticisms  and  comments  that 
were  decidedly  rude  in  character. 

Miss  Barton  soon  became  suspected  of  anti-slavery  tendencies  and  feel- 
ings. She  held  this  position  until  about  the  middle  of  President  Buchanan's 
term,  when  she  was  removed  for  this  reason.  Returning  to  Massachusetts 
she  occupied  the  following  two  or  three  years  in  study. 

]Clara  Barton  returned  to  Washington  after  the  election  of  Mr.  Lincoln, 
and  was  immediately  after  re-instated  in  her  former  position.     Roused  to 


CLAHA   BARTON.  371 

patriotic  earnestness  during  the  early  months  of  the  great  straggle,  she  went 
to  the  Commissioner  of  Patents,  lion.  D.  P.  Holloway,  and  volunteered  her 
services  to  lill  the  desks  of  any  two  positions,  occupied  by  disloyal  persons, 
below  an  examinership,  acceptably  to  the  department,  provided  two  disloyal 
men  should  be  dismissed,  and  the  salaries  accruing  to  the  two  positions  to  be 
idled  by  her,  should  be  returned  to  the  United  States  treasury.  Commis- 
sioner Holloway,  while  affected  to  tears  by  the  patriotism  which  prompted 
Miss  Barton's  offer,  declined  only  because  no  law  or  regulation  provided  for 
such  action.  But  she  declined  to  draw  upon  the  treasury  for  her  services, 
and  turned  her  labors  to  caring  for  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiery  then  crowd- 
ing the  camps  and  hospitals  in  and  around  Washington.  Noting  the  inade- 
quacy of#the  medical  facilities  of  the  army  and  their  inability  to  reach  and 
allay  the  terrible  sufferings  of  battlefields,  she  saw  the  widening  sphere  of 
her  usefulness  and  before  long  was  found  in  the  wake,  and  at  times  almost 
upon  the  verge  of  the  din  and  carnage  of  the  contending  armies.  In  this 
work  she  was  not  alone;  she  was  circled  by  broad-minded,  large-brained,  warm 
and  loving-hearted  women,  who — so  many  of  them  stricken,  too,  -with  their  own 
great  personal  sacrifices — found  the  healing  work  of  their  own  lives  to  be  in 
aiding  the  healing  of  their  country's  defenders.  Naturally  an  organizer,  con- 
cerned with  the  larger  movements  of  sanitary  and  hospital,  in  her  very 
grain  a  commander,  Clara  Barton  quickly  found  herself  drafted,  and  accept- 
ably too,  for  field  service. 

[At  this  time  the  hospitals  in  the  capital  were  cared  for  by  private  gener- 
osity and  the  Sanitary  Commission,  and  as  the  great  armies  of  the  nation  were 
in  the  field  where  there  were  few  to  minister  to  sick  and  wounded,  she  felt  the 
call  to  go  forth  and  do  what  she  could.  Here  was  the  great  struggle  of  her 
life.  She  was  young,  fair,  without  any  protection,  except  her  maiden  purity 
and  angel-mission,  and  she  must,  if  she  obeyed  the  call,  plunge  not  only  into 
all  the  horrors  of  battle  and  the  greater  horrors  of  reeking  hospitals,  but  go 
among  men  and  women  of  all  grades,  and  be  liable  to  insidt,  possible  vio- 
lence, and  exposed  to  misconstruction,  and  even  incur  a  liability  to  that  tar- 
nish of  reputation  that  to  so  white  a  soul  as  hers  is  worse  than  wounds  or 
death.  She  had  consulted  her  father,  and  he  had  exhorted  her  to  follow 
the  call  to  duty.     A  Royal  Arch  Mason  himself,  his  daughter  was  initiated  to 


372  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

the  degree  to  which  the  daughters  of  Masons  are  admitted,  and  the  emblem 
of  the  rite  she  had  observed  was  always  worn  on  her  heart,  and  a  talisman 
indeed,  it  often  proved.  Wearing  this  amulet,  and  with  the  hly  of  womanly 
innocence  in  her  hand,  this  modern  Joan  of  Arc,  without  sword  or  warlike 
panoply,  at  length  overcame  aU  doubts,  and  went  forth  to  her  great  work. 
As  I  think  of  her  and  the  immaculate  record  that  she  made  during  the  dread- 
ful years  that  followed,  I  see  in  her  example  one  that  should  be  impressed 
on  all  American  women. 

Bear  a  lily  in  thy  hand, 

Gates  of    brass  cannot  withstand 

One  touch  of  that  magic  wand. 

From  the  battle  of  Cedar  Mountain  in  the  Summer  of  1862,  where  she 
was  first  found  upon  the  field  assuaging  the  sufferings  of  the  wounded  •men 
left  by  Gen.  Banks's  retreating  army  to  the  wooded  acres  of  Fairfax  Station, 
covered  by  the  thousands  of  wounded  from  the  fight  of  the  second  Bull  Run, 
Clmntilly,  in  its  rain  and  darkness,  the  hurrying  off  of  the  wounded  by  the 
crowded  trains,  and  the  hasty  burial  of  the  dead  by  the  men  composing  her 
httle  band  of  relief,  and  finally  her  escape  by  the  last  car  of  the  last  train 
upon  which  was  hurried  away  the  last  wounded  men  before  the  advance  of  the 
enemy's  cavalry,  are  already  matters  of  history.  After  a  few  days'  rest  and 
replenishing  of  stores  at  Washington,  we  again  find  her  hastening  with  her 
wagon  trains,  following  the  Northern  army  which  was  marching  to  oppose 
Lee's  invasion  of  Maryland,  arriving  in  time  to  ply  her  work  of  relief  at 
"South  Mountain,"  reaching  "Antietam"  on  the  following  day,  September 
17,  1862.  For  her  fearless  presence  close  upon  the  skirts  of  this  awful 
field  of  slaughter,  where  she  found  surgeons  dressing  wounds  with  corn  husks 
for  bandages,  and  without  material  for  lights  with  which  to  continue  their 
labors  after  darkness  had  settled  down  upon  the  gloom  and  misery,  where 
the  contents  of  her  thoughtfully  and  well  provided  wagons  replenished  the 
exhausted  supplies  of  the  surgeons,  she  was  justly  styled  by  them  "the  Angel 
of  the  Battlefield." 

Eesting  a  short  time  in  Washington,  she  again  set  out,  retracing  the 
same  steps  to  meet  the  anticipated  attack  of  Lee  upon  Harper's  Ferry. 
Crossing  with  her  train  into  Virginia,  at  Harper's  Ferry,  she  followed  with 


CLARA    BARTON.  378 

General  Sturgis's  division  of  the  army  to  Falmouth,  where  the  two  armies 
faced  each  other,  the  rebels  being  entrenched  at  Fredericksburg. 

[This  very  year  a  note  from  Gen.  Sturgis,  with  a  basket  of  flowers,  elic- 
ited a  characteristic  response  from  her,  whose  sentiments  and  language  are 
charged  with  that  heart-eloquence  that  distinguishes  her.     1  extract:] 

"Washington,  D.  C,  April  5th. 

"J/y  Dear  General: — This  magnificent  basket  of  flowers  and  your  let- 
ter are  before  me.  I  found  them  waiting  to  greet  me  on  my  return  from  an 
official  caU  this  afternoon. 

"I  have  no  thanks  to  speak,  no  words  to  speak  them.  I  have  only  tears, 
silent  tears  and  silent  memories.  For  the  last  hour  I  have  sat  here  with  my 
gifts',  my  thoughts,  my  tears  and  you — here,  in  the  midst  of  the  old  days,  the 
grand  old  years  of  struggle  and  history,  a  nation's  second  birth,  a  nation's 
pain  and  a  nation's  life. 

"In  this  little  hour  I  have  lived  it  all  over  as  I  have  never  done  in  any 
one  hour  since  the  carnage  ended  and  'the  cannon's  lips  grew  cold.' 

"It  is  not  that  commendation  is  new  to  me,  that  this  overcomes  me.  It 
is  not  that  you  speak  me  fair  words  of  praise ;  I  am  used  to  that.  It  is  not 
that  you  accord  me  a  place  in  the  grateful  remembrance  of  our  heroes,  alive 
or  dead ;  I  am  used  to  that.  It  comes  to  me  from  all  sides  and  all  sources, 
through  all  the  years. 

"But,  General,  it  is  that  you,  who  knew  me,  who  saw  me,  who  helped 
me,  who  knew  the  helplessness  of  a  woman  alone  in  an  army  like  that,  who 
shielded  me  with  kindness  when  a  word,  a  look  could  have  crushed  me.  It 
is  that  you  should  say  it;  that  you  should  turn  artist  and  paint  my  picture 
for  your  dead  soldiers,  that  rains  the  tears  on  my  face,  your  'Well  done, 
good  and  faithful  servant,'  that  melts  me  like  a  snowfiake  and  humbles  me 
like  a  child. 

"Come  and  see  me,  General,  and  let  me  say,  if  I  tan,  what  I  can  not 
write,  and  keep  always,  I  pray  you,  a  place  in  your  memory  for  your  grate- 
ful friend,  Clara  Barton." 

There  is  in  all  Miss  Barton  writes  or  says  on  the  war  a  concentrated 
wealth  of  eloquent  earnestness  and  passionate  devotion,  which  the  writer,  in 


374  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

common  with  other  friends  who  know  her  well  and  love  her  deeply,  believes 
would  have  made  her,  if  health  had  not  failed  when  the  shock  of  armies 
ceased,  the  most  eloquent  orator,  high  priestess  of  the  period,  in  the  depicting 
by  her  own  historical  presence,  tender  voice,  so  replete  with  the  echoes  of 
endurance  and  service,  carrying  with  its  vibrant  tones  words  of  "silver  and 
gold,"  to  tell  and  to  declare  what  was  done  and  how  it  was  done  in  the  days 
when  heroism  was  the  inheritance  of  the  common  deeds,  and  high  valor  the 
reward  of  the  exceptional  and  renowned. 

But  to  return  to  the  record  of  service.  Then  came  the  battle  of  Fred- 
ericksburg under  Burnside,  with  aU  the  horrors  of  those  December  days  in 
1862.  Miss  Barton  was  present  and  remained  in  the  field  through  that  Win- 
ter until  Spring.  She  lived  most  of  the  Winter  in  army  wagons,  without  the 
shelter  of  house  or  tent,  with  the  snow  at  times  an  even  three  feet  deep.  In 
April,  18G3,  she  was  sent  to  Charleston  (S.  C.)  Harbor  as  hospital  superin- 
tendent, and  remained  there  for  several  months,  witnessing  the  night  attack 
on  Fort  Wagner  and  the  continued  siege  of  Morris  Island. 

[It  is  impossible  to  follow  Miss  Barton  with  descriptions  of  her  experi- 
ences. She  was  on  Morris  Island  during  the  long  operations  of  that  region. 
There  in  the  hot  sand,  ankle  deep,  without  tree  or  shrub,  boding  water  and 
cooking,  and  staunching  and  dressing  the  wounds  of  men  torn  by  rebel  shot, 
she  continued  her  work.  Several  times  ill,  she  persevered  until  Sumter, 
Wagner  and  Gregg  were  captured.] 

In  the  Spring  of  1861  Miss  Barton  returned  to  Washington,  just  in  time 
to  go  on  to  Fredericksburg  to  receive  the  wounded  from  the  "Wilderness" 
(May,  1864).  Upon  Gen.  Butler's  succeeding  to  the  command  of  the  "Army 
of  the  James"  at  Bermuda  Hundred,  Miss  Barton,  at  his  invitation,  attached 
herself  to  the  10th  army  corps.  She  found,  perhaps,  here,  the  widest  field 
for  her  usefulness  that  she  had  yet  met,  the  investment  covering  a  long  fine. 
She  remained  there  until  February,  1864,  taking  charge,  one  after  another, 
of  the  field  hospitals,  being  afforded  every  facility  and  liberty  through  Gen. 
Butler's  uniform  kindness  and  appreciation.  On  returning  to  Washington 
she  found  the  exchange  of  Andersonville  prisoners  had  commenced  at  An- 
napolis. Miss  Barton  conceived  this  to  be  a  greater  work  even  than  that  re- 
quired by  the  wants  of  the  field.     She  went  to  Annapolis  to  assist  in  receiv- 


CLAUA   BARTON.  375 

iiig  theni  as  they  were  taken  from  the  boats.  It  was  here  that  she  saw  the 
necessity  for  opening  some  general  means  of  communication  for  the  parents, 
relatives  and  friends  scattered  through  the  United  States,  whose  soldiers  did 
not  return. 

In  an  address  at  Dansville,  N.  Y..  where  she  now  resides,  made  on  Sep- 
tember 20,  1880,  to  the  survivors  of  the  First  New  York  Dragoons,  Miss  Bar- 
ton has  told  so  well  the  reasons  which  controlled  and  inspired  her  in  organ- 
izing her  "Bureau  of  Missing  Soldiers,"  that  no  better  expression  than  her 
own  words  can  be  given  of  one  of  the  most  striking  incidents  in  the  history 
of  rehef. 

"As  I  looked  over  your  regimental  and  my  own  lists,  I  found,  that  al- 
though I  might  have  known  very  little  of  your  living  present  members,  I  had 
had  something  to  do  with  your  dead  and  your  missing.  I  find  among  my 
own  records  the  names  of  over  twenty  soldiers  of  the  First  New  York  Dra- 
goons, whose  graves  I  found,  had  them  properly  covered,  enclosed,  marked, 
and  suitable  burial  rites  performed  in  the  prison  cemetery  of  Andersonville. 
There  are  other  soldiers  standing  here  who  learned  the  terrors  of  its  stock- 
ade prison  grounds,  its  hardships  and  starvation,  but  who,  thank  God,  es- 
caped the  narrow,  crowded  trenches,  that  day  by  day,  through  the  terrible 
months,  stared  them  in  the  face.  Again,  by  reference  to  my  records,  I  find 
a  stiU  larger  number  whose  only  history  at  the  close  of  the  war  was  summed 
up  in  one  little  word,  'missing!'  The  heart-broken  friends  appealed  to  me 
for  help;  and  by  the  aid  of  surviving  comrades,  I  gained  intelligence  of  the 
fate  of  nearly  one-half  the  number,  and,  soldiers,  I  greatly  fear  there  are 
some  whose  names  to-day  stand  on  the  rolls  against  the  dark  word  'deserter,' 
who  were  never  unfaithful  to  their  trust,  who  fell  in  the  stem  path  of  duty, 
on  the  lone  picket  line,  perhaps,  or  wounded,  and  left  in  some  tangled  ravine 
to  perish  alone,  under  the  waters  in  some  dark  night,  or,  crazed  with  fever,  to 
die  in  some  tent  or  hut,  or  by  the  wayside  unknowing  and  unknown,  with 
none  to  tell  his  fate  or  save  his  honor;  alone  with  his  tarnished  name  he 
sleeps,  quiet  and  sweet, 

'Low  in  the  soil  he  died  to  save, 

Nor  recks  the  wrongs  above  his  grave.'" 

The  feelings  so  well  expressed  in  the  foregoing,  led  Miss  Barton  to  make 


376  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

a  request  to  the  War  Department  to  authorize  her  to  correspond  with  the  friends 
of  the  missing  prisoners.  It  was  looked  upon  as  too  large  and  difficult  a 
scheme  to  be  entertained  or  practically  accomplished,  so  it  was  declined. 
Great  numbers  of  letters  received  by  her  would  not  permit  of  giving  it  up. 
She  sought  Mr.  Lincoln  and  made  her  plan  known  to  him.  It  looked  to  him 
no  less  vast  than  to  the  others,  but  he  saw  a  way  to  accomplish  it,  and  in  the 
place  of  the  mere  official  assent  which  might  have  been  expected,  Mr.  Lin- 
coln wrote  and  published  to  the  people  of  the  country  over  his  own  name,  a 
request  for  them  to  address  Miss  Barton,  at  Annapolis,  for  any  information 
wanted  of  any  missing  soldier.  This  resulted  in  a  flood  of  communications 
pouring  in  from  all  quarters  of  the  North  and  West.  In  less  than  five  days 
after  the  piiblishing  of  this  letter,  there  had  accumulated  more  than  five 
bushels  of  letters.  They  continued  to  arrive  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred  a 
day  for  more  than  a  year.  Having  organized  the  system  of  correspondence, 
Miss  Barton,  at  the  request  of  the  Secretary  of  War,  went  in  July,  1865,  to 
AndersonviUe,  leaving  the  correspondence  in  charge  of  clerks. 

This  recital  is  but  coldly  phrased.  But,  what  wondrous  days!  What 
heroic  nights!  What  suffering  bravely  borne!  What  deeds  of  daring! 
What  loving  kindness!  What  a  mighty  outpouring  of  spiritual  and  heart 
forces  are  embraced  in  the  words !  The  great  mother  heart  of  Clara  Barton 
went  out  in  loving  service  to  the  nation's  heroes,  and  has  been  satisfied. 
She,  indeed,  has  truly  been  wedded  to  humane  service! 

She  describes  her  experiences: 

"During  a  search  for  the  missing  men  of  the  United  States  Army,  com- 
menced in  March,  1865,  under  the  sanction  of  our  late  lamented  President 
Lincoln,  I  formed  the  acquaintance  of  Dorrance  Atwater,  of  Connecticut,  a 
member  of  the  2nd  New  York  Cavalry,  who  had  been  a  prisoner  at  Belle  Isle 
and  AndersonviUe  twenty-two  months,  and  charged  by  the  rebel  authority 
with  the  duty  of  keeping  the  Death  Register  of  the  Union  prisoners  who  died 
amid  the  nameless  cruelties  of  the  last  named  prison. 

"I  first  learned  by  minute  inquiry  the  method  adopted  in  the  burial  of 
the  dead,  and  by  carefully  comparing  his  accounts,  with  a  draft  which  he 
had  made  of  the  grounds,  I  became  convinced  of  the  possibility  of  identifying 
the  graves,  comparing  the  number,  post  or  board,  marking  each  man's  posi- 
tion in  the  trench  in  which  he  was  buried  with  the  corresponding  number 


OLARA    BARTON.  377 

standing  against  his  name  upon  the  register  kept  by  Mr.  Atwater,  which  he 
informed  me  was  then  in  the  possession  of  the  War  Department. 

"The  dead  had  been  buried  by  Union  soldiers,  the  number  of  the  graves 
marked  is  12,1)20;  interspersed  through  this  Death  Register  were  400  num- 
bers against  which  stood  only  the  dark  word  'unknown.'"  When  they  had 
finished  their  work,  only  400  tablets  had  on  them  the  touching  inscription, 
"Unknown  Union  Soldiers"  ! 

Addressing  the  Grand  Army  of  the  Republic,  Memorial  Day,  in  Dans- 
ville,  N.  Y.,  in  1879,  she  said: 

"Yes,  it  is  over.  The  calls  are  answered,  the  marches  are  ended,  the 
nation  saved,  and  with  the  glory  of  gladness  in  her  eyes,  the  shekinah  of 
victory  on  her  brow,  she  covers  her  tear-stained  face,  and  with  grief-bowed 
head,  sits  humbly  down  in  the  ashes  of  her  woe  to  mourn  her  loss — to  wee}) 
her  dead. 

"Decorated  graves — white  May  blossoms  of  '79.  Who  lays  a  flower 
on  those  little  lost  graves  to-day,  who  on  the  thousands  and  thousands  like 
them  all  through  the  land? 

'Far  down  by  the  yellow  rivers, 

In  their  oozy  graves   they   rot; 
Strange  vines,  and  strange  flowers  grow  o'er  them 

And  their  far  homes  know  them  not.' 

"Thirteen  thousand  dead  in  one  prison!     Three  hundred  thousand  dead 

in  one  war!     Dead  everywhere !     On  every  battlefield  they  lie,  in  the  crowded 

yards   of  every  prison  ground,  in  the  dark  ravines  of  the  tangled  forest, 

in  the  miry  poison  swamps  where  the  slimy  serpent  crawls  by  day  and  the 

will  o'  the  wisp  dances  vigils  at  night,   'in  the  beds  of  the  mighty  rivers, 

under  the  waves  of  the  salt  sea,'  in  the  drifting  sands  of  the  desert  islands; 

•on  the  lonely  picket  hue  and   by  the  wayside,  where  the  weary  soldier  laid 

down  with  his  knapsack  and  his  gun,  and  his  march  of  life  was  ended.' 

There  on  their  strange  beds  they  sleep,  till  the  'morning  of  the  great  reveille.' 

They  sleep,  and  you  remember. 

******** 

"American  women,  how  proud  I  am  of  you;  how  proud  I  have  always 
been  since  those  days  to  have  been  a  woman.     Abraham  Lincoln  said  thr.t 


878  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

without  the  help  of  the  women  the  rebellion  could  not  have  been  put  down, 
nor  the  country  saved.     Since  that  time  I  have  counted  all  women  citizens." 

Congress,  during  the  session  of  1865-66,  recognized  the  •  services  per- 
formed by  Clara  Barton  by  passing  a  bill  to  reimburse  her  for  the  expendi- 
tures incurred  in  searching  for  missing  soldiers.  The  famous  39th  Congress 
understood  clearly  the  great  advantage,  in  a  financial  sense,  derived  from 
her  labors.  The  work  she  performed  not  only  gave  to  loving  hearts  that 
quiet  and  repose  which  follows  certainty,  but  it  filled  up  the  hiatus  in  the 
records  of  many  thousand  soldiers,  and  brought  about  the  just  settlement  of 
their  pay  and  bounty  accounts.  The  rolls  saved  by  the  heroic  persistency  and 
courage  of  Dorrance  Atwater  while  a  prisoner  at  Anderson ville,  and  made 
public  through  Miss  Barton's  efforts  for  the  benefit  of  those  related  to  the 
13, QUO  dead  whose  names  were  recorded  in  the  Atwater  rolls,  were  the  means 
of  rightfully  adjusting  accounts  amounting  to  millions  of  dollars.  The  time 
will  yet  come  when  the  historian,  following  the  record  of  woman's  war- 
work,  will  review  the  labors  of  Clara  Barton  with  careful  admiration  for  its 
sagacity  and  comprehensiveness,  as  well  as  the  loving  spirit  it  evinces. 

After  repeated  calls  from  numerous  quarters,  Miss  Barton,  in  October, 
1866,  commenced  the  delivery  of  a  course  of  war  lectures,  entitled  "Works 
and  Incidents  of  Army  Life."  She  continued  to  deliver  these  lectures  to 
houses  crowded  to  overflowing  by  tear-bedimmed  audiences,  until  the  failure 
of  her  health  in  1868,  when,  after  a  Winter  of  severe  illness  in  Washington, 
being  prostrated  by  nervous  exhaustion  and  malarial  fever,  she  was  advised 
to  go  to  Europe.  She  sailed  from  New  York  in  the  Summer  of  1869,  reach- 
ing Switzerland  in  September  of  that  year. 

Miss  Barton's  fame  as  a«n  "Angel  of  the  Battlefield"  having  preceded 
her  in  Europe,  she  had  been  waited  upon  by  a  delegation  from  the  "Interna- 
tional Committee"  of  the  "Geneva  Treaty  of  the  Red  Cross."  On  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  war  between  France  and  Germany,  in  July,  1870,  she  was  again 
sought  by  a  corps  of  assistants  of  the  Red  Cross  Society,  under  charge  of 
Dr.  Louis  Appia,  on  their  way  to  the  frontier,  and  invited  to  join  them. 
She  followed  immediately  after  their  departure,  through  Basle  and  up  the 
French  side  of  the  Rhine,  through  Strasburg  to  the  hard-fought  field  of  Ha- 
gemau,  arriving  in  time  to  participate  in  caring  for  the  wounded;  retracing 


CLARA   BARTON.  379 

back  to  the  siege  of  Strasburg;  after  some  weeks  here,  she  was  called  to 
Carlsruhe  by  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Baden,  to  consult  in  reference  to  the 
establishment  of  what  was  then  known  as  the  American  barracks,  which  is 
another  term  for  our  "flying  hospitals,*'  an  arrangement  until  then  unknown 
in  European  warfare.  She  remained  with  the  Grand  Duchess  until  the  fall 
of  Strasburg,  and  then  went  to  that  city,  entering  it  with  the  German  army. 
Miss  Barton  commenced  the  work  of  relieving  the  destitute  by  establishing 
a  system  of  paid  labor  among  the  women,  which  continued  for  eight  months, 
and  furnished  employment  for  several  hundreds  of  persons.  This  work,  so 
well  done,  was  peculiarly  illustrative  of  Miss  Barton's  methods.  The  writer 
was  in  Strasburg  three  years  later  and  heard  from  those  who  worked  under 
her  direction  the  wonderful  results  achieved.  During  these  eight  months 
Miss  Barton  also  entered  the  city  of  Metz  at  its  surrender,  helping  for  a  few 
days  to  assist  in  administering  relief  to  the  starving  inhabitants,  besides 
rendering  aid  to  the  wounded  returning  from  Sedan,  and  entering  Paris  at 
the  close  of  the  siege,  June,  1871,  closed  her  work  in  Strasburg  and  again 
entered  Paris  at  the  fall  of  the  Commune,  taking  large  quantities  of  supplies 
and  money.  Entering  the  city  at  the  time  the  troops  of  Versailles  were 
shooting  down  the  Communists  and  the  city  was  smoking  in  ruins,  she  sought 
the  mayor,  and  asked  for  a  place  from  which  to  distribute  her  supplies  to  the 
poor;  was  requested  to  use  his  house  for  the  purpose,  and  did  so.  Miss 
Barton  remained  six  weeks,  meeting  and  relieving  the  destitute  under  his 
authority  and  co-operation. 

Miss  Barton  was  honored  alike  by  the  esteem  and  friendship  of  German 
and  French  authorities.  The  Grand  Duchess  Stephanie,  of  Baden,  remains 
her  warm  personal  friend  and  is  her  constant  correspondent.  The  Empress 
of  Germany  gave  her  the  Iron  Cross  of  Merit,  and  the  Grand  Duchess  of 
Baden  gave  the  Gold  Cross  of  Remembrance.  The  Ribbon  and  Cross  of  the 
Legion  of  Honor  would  have  been  presented  to  her  by  M.  Thiers  had  she 
been  willing,  in  accordance  with  usage,  to  make  the  formal  application 
necessaiy.     This  Miss  Barton,  as  an  American,  could  not  feel  it  right  to  do. 

[In  response  to  a  letter  from  me  to  Her  Royal  Highness  the  Grand 
Duchess  of  Baden,  that  eminent  lady  dictated  the  following: 


380  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

"Karlsruhe,  16  Oct.,  1880. 

"Madam: — H.  E.  H.  the  Grand  Duchess  of  Baden  charges  rue  with  an 
answer  to  the  letter  asking  for  news  ahout  Miss  Barton.  Her  Koyal  High- 
ness sent  an  inquiry  to  the  lady  who  was  acquainted  with  Miss  Barton,  and 
a  great  help  to  her  during  the  days  of  work  at  Strasburg.  Unhappily  this 
lady  is  now  so  ill  that  she  could  only  tell  by  dictation  what  follows  and  what 
I  translated  for  you  into  English. 

"Never  will  the  Grand  Duchess  forget  Miss  Barton,  whom  she  values 
sincerely,  and  for  whose  activity  Her  Boyal  Highness  has  the  greatest  praise. 

Yours  truly,  M.  v.  Schienan." 

The  letter  dictated  describes  at  great  length  the  immense  and  beneficent 
labor  she  performed.] 

The  latter  part  of  the  Summer  of  1870,  following  the  fall  of  the  Com- 
mune, was  passed  by  Miss  Barton  in  much  needed  rest,  in  the  south  of 
France.  In  the  Autumn  of  that  year,  having  returned  to  Carlsruhe,  she  pro- 
ceeded in  the  following  Winter  to  the  destitute  cities  in  the  east  of  France, 
Belfort,  Montbeliard,  etc.,  distributing  contributions  of  monies  among  the 
poor,  which  had  been  entrusted  to  her  charge  for  that  purpose  by  Mr.  Ed- 
mund Dwight,  the  benevolent  and  efficient  agent  of  the  "Boston  French  Be- 
lief Fund." 

In  1873  Miss  Barton  was  in  London  for  seven  months;  was  confined  to 
her  room  and  couch  with  severe  sickness,  caused  by  bronchial  difficulties  and 
nervous  affection,  her  life  being  often  despaired  of. 

Miss  Barton  returned  to  the  United  States  in  1874.  After  a  short  time 
spent  in  Washington  and  Massachusetts,  she  went  to  the  Health  Cure  at 
Dansville,  N.  Y.,  and  finally  purchased  a  home  in  that  town,  where  she  now 
resides.  As  soon  as  her  health  permitted  Miss  Barton  came  to  the  Federal 
capital  and  presented  in  person  to  Mr.  Hayes  the  letter  of  the  Geneva  "Red 
Cross"  Committee,  asking  recognition  by  the  United  States.  It  was  not  until 
June,  1881,  that  her  efforts  were  successful.  President  Garfield  publicly  ap- 
proved of  the  request  for  ratification  of  this  volunteer  treaty  of  beneficence 
and  relief,  and  Secretary  Blaine  wrote  semi-officially,  declaring  that  the  Ex- 
ecutive approved  and  would  favorably  present  the  matter  to  Congress  at  the 


ADELINE    TODD.  381 

next  session.  Miss  Barton  has  also  completed  the  organization  of  an  Amer- 
ican Society  of  the  Red  Cross,  of  which  she  was  properly  chosen,  being  the 
accredited  delegate  of  the  Geneva  International  Committee,  as  weU  as  the 
one  American  supremely  and  practically  well  informed  on  its  workings,  meth- 
ods and  objects,  as  its  first  President. 

Clara  Barton  is  a  woman  of  notable  face,  striking  appearance  and  pos- 
sesses memorable  characteristics.  Shrinking  from  notoriety,  she  is  still  un- 
flinching in  the  performance  of  duty.  Modest  to  bashfulness  almost  as  to 
her  own  personality,  and  shrinking  from  controversy,  she  does  not,  however, 
hesitate  at  accepting  any  responsibility  that  properly  arises,  and  has  in  an 
eminent  degree  the  "courage  of  her  convictions"  and  actions  also.  Gifted 
with  a  rare  breadth  and  keenness  of  intellect,  she  would  readily  have  won  a 
place  in  literature.  Her  name  is  one  that  adds  honor  to  her  country's  record, 
and  she  herself  remains  a  woman  loved  by  her  friends,  esteemed  by  all  who 
have  been  honored  in  knowing  her,  and  recognized  as  one  worthy  of  admira- 
tion and  renown  beside  Florence  Nightingale  and  Dorothea  Dix. 

[No  woman  who  has  ever  trodden  this  continent  more  richly  deserves 
a  full  biography  to  preserve  the  memory  of  her  good  deeds  as  examples  to 
the  women  of  all  succeeding  generations.] 


ADELINE  TODD. 

Mrs.  Freeman  H.  Todd,  of  St.  Stephen,  New  Brunswick,  was  born  in 
Newburyport,  Mass.,  December  5,  1815.  Her  parents  were  descendants  of 
the  first  settlers  in  the  old  town  of  Newbury.  Boardman  street,  near  Lord 
Timothy  Dexter's  place,  was  formerly  their  property  and  home.  They  were 
engaged  in  ship  building  and  foreign  commerce.  William  Boardman,  the 
lather  of  Mrs.  Todd,  was  a  highly  respected  merchant,  but  financial  reverses 
overtaking  him,  he  removed  to  Calais.  Me.,  in  1828.  He  was  a  gentleman 
of  the  old  school,  courteous  and  genial. 


382  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Adeline  Boardman,  the  eldest  of  nine  children,  was  sent  back  for  a  two 
years'  course  of  study,  to  Miss  Mary  Hodge,  of  Newburyport.  On  her  return 
to  Calais,  when  only  sixteen  years  of  age,  she  engaged  in  teaching  in  the 
public  schools.  Her  evenings  were  employed  in  writing  stories  and  sketches 
for  the  "Youths'  Companion,"  published  in  Boston,  for  which  she  was  lib- 
erally paid.  For  her  first  book,  "The  Sisters,"  Mr.  Ballard,  the  publisher, 
sent  her  a  sum  of  money,  so  large  to  her  youthful  eyes  that  she  was  "wild 
with  excitement."  Occasionally  she  contributed  to  the  newspapers  and 
magazines,  but  her  heart  was  with  the  children,  and  it  was  for  them  she  loved' 
to  write. 

At  the  age  of  twenty- two  she  was  married  to  Freeman  H.  Todd,  Esq., 
of  St.  Stephen,  New  Brunswick.  Her  husband  is  a  very  successful  business 
man,  in  fact  a  millionaire.  He  is  extensively  engaged  in  lumbering  and 
banking  and  in  railway  enterprise's.  Their  home,  called  "Doer  Hill,"  is  on 
the  banks  of  the  St.  Croix  river  and  commands  a  fine  view  of  the  river  and 
the  country  and  city. 

Mrs.  Todd  was  educated  in  the  orthodox  faith,  but  several  years  after 
her  marriage  she  became  interested  in  Universahsm.  It  is  impossible  for 
her  to  become  a  bigot,  and  yet  she  has  decided  convictions  upon  religious 
truth.  Sickness  and  sorrows  have  intensified  and  confirmed  these.  For 
years  she  has  been  an  invalid,  with  no  prospect  of  being  restored  to  health. 
The  death  of  her  children  has  tested  her  faith.  When  the  first  shadow  was 
thrown  across  the  hearth-stone,  she  wrote: 

"Yes,  Carrie  is  dead!  and  our  home  is  desolate.  No  sweet  voice  wakes 
us  with  its  morning  carol,  or  rose-bud  lips  with  their  early  greeting.  No 
fingers  touch  the  piano  since  she  filled  the  house  with  melody.  No  flowers 
grace  our  rooms  since  the  artist  has  gone  from  them.  The  dog  is  taken  to  a 
neighbor's,  as  his  moans  made  us  almost  wild,  and  her  canary  is  hidden 
away  in  a  servant's  room,  lest  the  sight  or  sound  of  it  should  stab  the  mother 
heart.  Poor  mother!  so  wan,  so  still,  so  utterly  benumbed  by  sorrow,  hold- 
ing the  Bible  on  her  knees,  the  picture  of  her  darling  in  her  hands,  while  her 
thoughts  are  far,  far  away  to  the  new  home,  among  the  angels.  All  through 
the  illness  she  attended  to  her  every  want,  until  death  touched  her  with  his 
icy  finger.     Then  she  fell  moaning  into  my  arms,  and  congestion  of  the  brain 


ADELINE    TODD.  HK.i 

very  mercifully  kept  the  poor  mother  from  witnessing  the  last  agonies  and 
the  solemn  burial. 

"God  is  good,  and  God  is  compassionate,  but  faith  and  trust  and  hope 
cannot  be  born  in  a  day.  In  the  meantime  we  'sit  dumb  under  the  shadow 
of  our  great  affliction.' 

"  When  I  see  my  husband  returning  from  his  daily  walk  to  the  grave, 
pallid,  and  with  quivering  lips,  I  wonder  why  'Grandpa's'  pet  could  not  have 
been  spared  to  us;  why  our  only  daughter  must  suffer  such  keen  anguish, 
\vhile  others  are  exempt;  why  the  one  ewe  lamb  must  be  taken  from  the 
widow,  while  other  homes  are  filled  with  childish  voices. 

"I  cannot  help  questioning  at  times;  all  seems  so  dark  and  strange,  but 
yet  I  know  "that  behind  and  above  all  there  is  a  love  and  compassion,  far  ex- 
ceeding all  I  feel  for  my  poor,  bereft  darling. 

"No  mother  heart  was  ever  the  same  after  the  death  of  a  beloved  child. 
The  bloom  is  rubbed,  the  rose  tints  are  faded,  and  a  great  rent  is  made  in 
the  web  of  her  life.  But  the  Savior  can  see  it,  and  somewhere  and  at  some 
time  he  will  help  her  take  up  the  tangled,  broken  threads  with  his  pitying 
fingers,  and  he  will  weave  anew  with  such  divine  tissues  of  love  that  only 
the  scar  will  remain." 

During  her  months  of  sickness,  when  confined  to  her  room,  she  was 
accustomed  to  write  stories  for  the  entertainment  of  her  children.  At  their 
solicitation  she  consented  to  have  thein  published.  The  manuscripts  were 
given  to  her  pastor,  Rev.  H.  A.  Philbrook,  who  disposed  of  them  to  the  Uni- 
versalist  Publishing  House,  of  Boston,  for  the  benefit  of  his  Sunday-school. 
At  that  time  she  was  a  patient  at  the  Round  Hill  water  cure  establishment 
iu  Northhampton,  Mass,  and  the  two  volumes,  "Ida  Wihnot"  and  "Ed.  Lee," 
formed  a  portion  of  the  famous  "Round  Hill"  series,  which  have  had  a  large 
circulation. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  an. adequate  idea  of  Mrs.  Todd's  genius  by  selec- 
tions. She  is  pre-eminently  a  story  writer  for  children,  and  only  the  continu- 
ity of  an  entire  tale  can  impart  the  sense  of  her  abilities. 

Her  brother,  George  Boardman,  is  one  of  the  principal  ornithologists  of 
the  present  generation.  His  "Birds  of  Maine  ami  New  Brunswick,"  in 
Baird's  "Birds,"  illustrates  his  abilities. 


381  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


MARTHA    WASHBURNE. 

When  Thomas  Barnes  and  the  earlier  apostles  of  our  faith  began  their 
work  in  Maine,  they  found  their  hearers  among  the  best  families  of  that  sec- 
tion. The  Coolidges,  the  Washburnes,  the  Morisons,  the  Haineses,  the  Ben- 
jamins, the  Bradfords,  the  Stricklands,  the  Hollands,  the  Livermores,  the 
Howes,  the  Smalls,  were  the  natural  and  acknowledged  intellectual  and  social 
aristocracy  of  the  State,  and  they  were  almost  all  of  our  faith.  The  excel- 
lence of  their  character,  and  their  great  influence  on  .their  times  and  on  their 
descendants,  now  scattered  in  all  sections  of  our  country,  and  still  prominent 
in  sustaining  the  blessed  religion  of  which  their  mothers  and  fathers  were 
the  first  modern  advocates,  were  often  due  to  the  Christian  fidelity  and  con- 
secration of  the  mothers  who  taught  and  transmitted  the  religion  they  loved. 
Could  we  but  develop  the  facts,  it  woidd  unquestionably  be  learned  that  the 
quiet  women  of  those  days,  who  had  no  desire  for  publicity,  and  no  ambi- 
tion beyond  the  rearing  of  their  families,  who  never  aspired  to  make  speeches, 
and  to  whom  the  production  of  books  was  undreamed  of,  are  the  real  artifi- 
cers of  the  characters  that  to-day  are  their  monuments.  Among  them  should 
be  mentioned — one  of  a  class,  many  of  whose  names  we  would  gladly  record 
— Martha,  daughter  of  Samuel  Benjamin.  She  was  born  in  Livermore,  Me. 
—a  twin  daughter— Oct.  4,  1792.  She  married,  March  30,  1812,  Israel 
Washburne,  who  was  born  in  Raynham,  Mass.,  Nov.  18,  1781,  and  died  May 
6,  1861.  Her  life  was  one  of  great  purity  and  excellence.  Her  house  was 
tlit!  ministers'  home.  Her  character  was  one  of  great  womanly  force,  im- 
pressing itself  by  a  quiet  yet  irresistible  womanly  influence  on  all  who  knew 
her.  A  genuine  Christian  wife  and  mother,  reverenced  wherever  known,  she 
will  be  especially  remembered  in  the  remarkable  career  of  her  eminent  and 
distinguished  children.  Israel  (LL.D.) — M.  C.  32d-86th  Congresses,  from 
M  line,  and  Governor  of  the  State  in  1861-2;  Algernon  S.,  merchant  and 
banker;  Elihu  B.,  M.  C.,  Illinois,  1852-69,  Secretary  of  State  under  Gen. 
Grant,  and  Minister  Plenipotentiary  to  France;  Cadwalader  C,  (LL.D.) — M. 
C.  34th— 10th  Congresses,  Major  General  in  the  war  of  the  Rebellion,  and 


ELIZABETH    BUCHTEL.  385 

Governor  of  Wisconsin  in  1H71;  Martha  (Stephenson) ;  Churles  A.,  elector 
for  California,  I860,  Minister  to  Paraguay  in  lHlil,  and  author  of  "History 
of  Paraguay"  and  other  works;  Samuel  B.,  shipmaster  in  the  Merchant  Ma- 
rine and  captain  in  the  navy  during  the  late  war;  Mary  !>.,  (Buffum); 
William  D.,  Surveyor  General  of  Minnesota  18(31— (>;">,  M.  C,  present  Congress; 
Carohne  A.,  wife  of  Dr.  F.  S.  Holmes,  surgeon  6th  Maine,  in  the  late  war. 
At  one  time  three  of  the  hrothers  were  in  Congress  together,  and  since  then 
the  fourth  has  occupied  the  position.  It  is  to  such  women  as  she,  honored 
wives  and  mothers,  that  our  church  owes  a  large  part  of  its  success,  and 
surely  such  nohle  characters  are  the  highest  product,  as  they  should  he  the 
chief  boast  of  our  religion.  There  are  and  have  been  thousands  of  such  as 
Martha  Washburne,  whose  names  are  indelibly  recorded  in  the  Book  of  Life, 
though  unrecorded  in  human  annals.  May  they  be  increased  and  multiplied 
the  "Elect  Ladies"  of  our  Zion. 


ELIZABETH    BUCHTEL. 

Mrs.  Buchtel  is  the  wife  of  Hon.  John  B.  Buchtel,  of  Akron,  Ohio, 
whose  princely  gifts  to  the  college  which  bears  his  name,  give  him  high  rank 
among  the  benefactors  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Her  maiden  name  was 
Davidson,  and  she  was  born  in  Union  County,  Peun.,  Aug.  2">,  1821,  the 
second  in  a  family  of  twelve  children.  I  believe  her  parents  were  origi- 
oally  New  Englanders.  When  Elizabeth  was  about  thirteen  years  of  age, 
the  Davidson  family  removed  to  Akron,  and  made  their  home  on  a  farm 
about  four  miles  from  the  present  city,  and  here  she  lived  until  her  marriage 
with  Mr.  Buchtel,  Jan.  10,  1843. 

Mr.  Buchtel  was  then  a  young,  rugged  and  energetic  farm  laborer,  doing 
"days'  works"  in  the  vicinity.  But  he  was  even  then  noted  for  his  industry 
and  enterprise  in  whatever  he  undertook,  and  his  services  were  constantly  in 
demand  in  the  season  when  the  farmers  needed  help.  Uniting  their  humble 
fortunes,  and  the  union  sanctified  by  mutual  affection,  with  industry  and  pru- 


386  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

dence  the  young  couple  soon  emerged  from  the  condition  of  comparative  pov- 
erty, and  began  that  career  in  other  relations  which  has  resulted  in  wealth  and 
affluence.  I  need  not  attempt  to  teU  the  story  of  their  early  days.  It  is 
the  old  narrative  illustrated  happily  in  many  a  pioneer's  experience  in  the 
West,  where  the  husband  and  wife  equally  share  struggle  and  privation,  and 
are  equally  entitled  to  the  honor  and  benefit  of  achievement.  Whatever  suc- 
cess Mr.  Buchtel  has  secured  from  the  date  of  his  marriage  to  the  present 
time,  has  been  largely  due  to  the  sympathy  and  co-operation  of  his  wife,  who 
is  now  as  deeply  interested  as  himself  in  the  great  educational  enterprise 
which  has  made  their  name  so  widely  known. 

Buchtel  College  would  never  indeed  have  been  established  but  for  the 
quiet  and  efficient  influence  of  this  noble  woman.  In  the  darkest  hours  of 
the  enterprise  she  has  been  a  tower  of  strength  to  Mr.  Buchtel  and  those 
associated  with  him.  From  the  first  she  entered  heartily  into  this  enterprise, 
and  has  never  given  up  hope  of  its  ultimate  success.  Notwithstanding  the 
constant  drain  of  the  institution  on  her  husband's  wealth,  she  has  nobly 
seconded  every  sacrifice  and  nerved  him  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  great 
work  of  his  life.  In  Mr.  Buchtel's  hours  of  despondency — natural  under  the 
many  trying  circumstances — her  cheerful  courage  would  come  to  the  front, 
and  serve  as  inspiration  to  new  effort.  Her  own  subscriptions  to  the  college 
have  been  large,  and  she  has  aided  it  in  various  ways,  but  to  her  influence  in 
the  home  must  be  credited  the  largest  share  of  its  success.  In  this  way  no 
woman  has  done  more  in  the  past  decade  for  the  Universalist  Church,  and 
she,  therefore,  deserves  this  prominent  notice  in  our  "Woman  Workers." 

Mrs.  Buchtel  is  a  member  of  the  Universalist  Church  at  Akron  and  a 
constant  helper  in  all  the  social  and  philanthropic  work  of  the  church.  Her 
beautiful  home  is  the  centre  of  interest  for  many  of  the  young  people  of  the 
college,  and  she  takes  special  pains  to  become  acquainted  with  them  person- 
ally, and  to  make  it  pleasant  for  those  who  are  strangers  in  the  place. 

Mrs.  Buchtel  is  below  medium  height  and  small  in  figure,  with  soft, 
brown  eyes  and  delicate,  regular  features,  and  is  thus  in  marked  contrast 
with  the  massive  frame  and  stalwart  manhood  of  her  husband,  whom  nature 
ciist,  in  a  gigantic  mould.  During  "Commencement"  and  at  other  times  when 
her  spacious  parlors  are  crowded  with  the  guests  and  students  of  the  college, 


MYRA    J.    NORTIIRUI'.  387 

she  glides  among  her  company  with  the  easy  grace  which  reveals  the  natural 
horn  lady,  speaking  gentle  and  pleasant,  words  in  a  low  and  winning  voice. 
Always  amiable  and  cheerful,  accustomed  to  looking  on  the  hright  side,  her 
sunny  disposition  and  many  domestic  virtues  make  her  a  worthy  companion 
of  the  great  hearted  man,  whose  restless,  energetic  life  needs  in  the  home 
exactly  the  influence  which  his  wife  supplies. 

The  chair  of  English  Literature  in  the  college  was  instituted  by  Mr. 
Buchtel  in  the  name  of  his  wife,  and  is  known  as  the  "Elizabeth  Buchtel 
Professorship."  It  is  a  noble  endowment,  and  will  long  stand  as  a  memorial 
of  her  fidelity  and  the  husband's  recognition  of  her  worth  and  influence. 
But  equally  with  himself,  Mrs.  Buchtel  deserves  credit  for  Buchtel  College 
and  whatever  influence  it  may  exercise  on  this  and  succeeding  generations. 
Her  name  deserves  honor  while  our  church  stands. 


MYRA    J.    NORTHRUP. 

This  rising  poet  is  a  native  of  Deerfield  N.  Y.,  and  a  resident  of  Topeka, 
Kans.  She  united  with  our  church  in  Seneca,  Kans.,  some  two  years  since. 
Beared  in  the  "orthodox"  faith,  she  writes,  "I  was  a  natural  Universalist." 
She  began  writing  verse  at  twelve,  and  her  purpose  is  to  express  the  divine 
love  and  man's  universal  brotherhood. 

CHRISTMAS    CAROL. 

Long  ago.  oh,  thought  amazing! 

Came  a  snug  earth's  sad   be  arts  raising; 

Lo!   a  heavenly  hosl   is  praising, 
While  the  courts  of  heaven   ring! 

Shepherds  there  their  flocks  attending 

Caught  the  strains  so  sweetly  blending, 

O'er  Judea'S   hilltops  wending 
For  is  burn   a   Savior  King! 

Hear  the  notes  of  praise,  resounding 
O'er  the   earth,  with  joy  abounding, 


388  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

All  the  great  and  wise  confounding, 

As  they  catch   the  song  again; 

Joy  and  peace  on  earth  'tis  bringing, 
Light   and  hope   'mid  darkness  flinging, 
"Glory  be  to  God,"  they're  singing, 
Peace  on  earth,  good  will  toward  men!" 

O'er  the  golden  hilltops  stealing, 
Hear  the   song,   earth's  hope  revealing. 
Louder  still  and  louder  pealing, 

Till  it  sounds  far  o'er   the  plains; 
Darkness  now  hath  fled  forever, 
Man  need  mourn  in   sorrow  never, 
For  is  born  on  earth  a  Savior 

Christ,  the  Lord,  forever   reigns! 

Born  to  raise  the  lost  and  dying, 
All  in  sin's    dark  valley  lying, 
Born  to  vanquish  pain  and   sighing, 

Let  the  earth  with  gladness  praise; 
Praise   him,   man,   by  sorrow  riven, 
For  this  wondrous  blessing  given, 
Praise  him  all  ye  hosts  of.  heaven, 

Swell  the  song  through  endless  days. 


JANE    MUNEOE 


Was  daughter  of  a  Scotchman,  who  belonged  to  a  regiment  of  High- 
landers in  Wolfe's  army,  at  the  conquest  of  Quebec.  He  remained  in  this 
country  and  settled  in  Minot,  Me.  She  was  born  April,  1780.  She  became 
the  teacher  of  the  young  in  that  vicinity.  She  reached  her  conclusions  in 
favor  of  Universalism  very  early,  and  became  a  most  strenuous  advocate  of 
our  faith.  Rev.  Zenas  Thompson,  then  a  mere  lad,  listened  with  delight  to 
her  simple  eloquence,  and  no  doubt  owes  his  early  bent  to  the  ministry  to  her 
influence.  She  had  a  pure  heart,  a  pleasing  personality  and  an  irresistible 
charm  of  speech,  and  wrought  a  great  deal,  in  a  quiet  way,  in  disseminating 
her  faith  in  a  region  where  now  it  seems  the  prevailing  thought.  Mr. 
Thompson   relates  that  a  gentleman  whose  deceased  wife  was  her  Bister, 


L.    W.   BROWN.  380 

offered  his  hand  in  marriage,  but  while  in  nearly  all  respects  such  a  union 
seemed  very  proper,  for  the  gentleman  was  a  very  intelligent  and  highly  re- 
spectable man,  tbere  was  one  obstacle  in  the  way,  as  he  looked  at  it.  He 
was  a  very  devoted  member  of  the  orthodox  church  in  old  Connecticut  where 
tbe  color  of  orthodoxy  was  quite  as  deep  as  anywhere,  and  he  felt  that  her 
heresy  was  a  serious  obstacle  to  their  union,  and  he  resolved  to  make  a  strong 
effort  to  remove  it,  that  it  should  not  disturb  their  future  harmony.  Accord- 
ingly, he  proposed  that  they  should  at  once  discuss  the  subject,  while  he 
would  attempt  to  show  her  the  error  of  her  doctrine.  To  this  proposition 
Miss  Munroe  readily  assented.  A  thorough  discussion  ensued.  The  result 
was  his  complete  conversion  to  her  faith  and  prompt  avowal  of  it.  Their 
marriage  soon  foUowed,  and  Mr.  B.  returned  to  his  home  in  Connecticut  with 
a  splendid  Universalist  wife,  and  she  most  happy  in  being  the  wife  of  a  hus- 
band whose  heart  was  renewed,  whose  hope  was  brightened  and  whose  faith 
"a  lamp  to  his  feet." 


L.  W.  BROWN. 

This  faithful  Christian  is  the  widow  of  Rev.  John  S.  Brown,  who 
died  in  Richmond,  N.  Y.,  March  23,  1855.  She  began  her  work  as  a  minis- 
ter's wife  about  the  year  1818,  in  Perry,  N.  Y.,  and  added  teaching  to  her 
home  duties.  They  removed  to  Taunton,  Mass.,  in  1851,  and  subsequently 
she  returned  to  Perry.  In  1862  she  was  a  teacher  in  Clinton  Liberal  Insti- 
tute, and  afterwards  removed  to  Akron,  Ohio,  where  she  now  resides. 

Sbe  has  been  remarkable  for  her  wonderful  work  of  caring  for  and  edu- 
cating young  persons.  With  no  means  which  she  has  not  earned  by  hard 
work,  she  has  reared  many — how  many,  no  one  knows — to  lives  of  usefulness 
and  honor.  It  has  been  impossible  to  obtain  data.  Mrs.  Brown  so  shrinks 
from  public  notice,  that  I  am  disinclined  to  give  in  these  pages  more  than  a 
brief  remembrance,  hoping  to  be  able  to  enlarge  upon  it  one  of  these  years; 


390  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

but  I  feel  that  she  owes  it  to  her  faith  to  let  her  "light  shine  that  others  may 
see  her  good  works,  and  glorify  her  Father  in  heaven." 

Mrs.  E.  A.  Richards,  of  Perry,  N.  Y.,  says,  "Although  we  all  know  her 
to  be  a  very  busy  woman,  never  having  but  one  suit  of  clothes,  the  rest  all 
going  for  somebody  who  in  her  judgment  needs  it  most,  she  has  so  dis- 
tributed her  life-work  that  to  gather  it,  would  be  about  as  impossible  as  to 
stand  on  the  shore  of  our  beautiful  lake  and  tell  how  many  pebbles  a  certain 
wave  had  touched." 


MES.    B.    MELLEN, 

Wife  of  one  of  our  clergymen,  Rev.  C.  W.  Mellen,  could  build  a  ship  on 
canvas  only  second  to  Lane,  the  great  marine  painter.  Mrs.  Mellen  was  a 
born  artist.  She  loved  the  sea,  and  few  have  ever  rendered  such  marine 
views  as  she  has  produced.  Her  copies  of  Lane  so  equaled  that  great  artist's 
work  that  he  himself  was  unable  to  distinguish  the  copy  from  the  original. 


SAEAH    E.    DUNBAR. 

Sarah  E.  Wilkinson  was  born  March  20, 1843,  on  a  farm  near  the  village 
of  Lexington,  Ohio.  When  nine  years  of  age  her  parents  removed  to  Nor- 
walk  in  the  same  State,  and  in  the  public  schools  she  was  educated.  She 
improved  her  opportunities  and  was  graduated  with  honor  in  June,  1861. 
She  became  a  teacher  in  the  school  where  she  had  formerly  been  a  pupil,  and 
remained  until  she  was  married  to  Oliver  P.  Dunbar,  a  gentleman  in  every  way 
worthy  of  her,  and  now  Master  Mechanic  of  the  Canada  Southern  Railroad. 


BARAH    E.    DUNBAR.  891 

Some  time  after  her  marriage,  Mrs.  Dunbar  resumed  her  connection 
with  the  Norwalk  High  School  and  taught,  until  at  the  solicitation  of  friends, 
she  opened  a  3elect  school,  which  sin;  conducted  very  successfully  until  her 
removal  to  Grosse  Isle,  Mich.,  a  picturesque  island  at  the  mouth  of  the  De- 
troit river,  which  is  her  present  home. 

Her  father,  Samuel  Wilkinson,  was,  and  is  an  earnest  Christian  Univer- 
salis!, and  one  of  the  hest  of  men.  His  daughter  was  reared  in  that  faith, 
«nd  early  took  her  position  in  the  front  rank  of  workers  for  her  church,  when 
the  Norwalk  Universalist  Society  was  organized.  She  was  one  of  two  teachers 
that  led  off  in  the  Sunday-school  work  of  that  church,  organizing  with  four 
scholars — two  apiece.  She  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  work  grow 
under  her  hands,  until  the  school  hecame  large  and  flourishing,  and  so  suc- 
cessful was  she  in  the  management  of  her  pupils  and  her  influence  upon 
them,  that  she  was  solicited  to  prepare  an  essay  upon  Sunday-school  work, 
to  be  read  at  the  Sunday-school  Convention  at  Hamilton,  Ohio,  which  was 
listened  to  with  more  than  ordinary  interest  by  those  present  on  that  occa- 
sion. Subsequently  she  presented  a  paper  upon  the  "Higher  Education  of 
Woman,"  before  the  Universalist  State  Convention  at  Norwalk,  which  was  a 
fine  production.  This  paper  was  again  delivered  before  the  Cary  Society, 
of  Buchtel  College,  and  afterwards  printed  in  the  "Star  in  the  West." 

Her  manner  upon  the  platform  is  very  womanly  and  attractive.  Her 
histrionic  abilities  are  rare  and  her  facial  expression  something  remarkable. 
But  so  modest  was  she  in  regard  to  her  abilities  in  this  line,  that  it  took  a 
great  deal  of  persuasion  upon  the  part  of  a  friend  who  loved  and  admired 
her,  to  induce  her  to  cultivate  her  talent.  She  has  lately  graduated  from  a 
two  years'  course  of  elocution  in  the  city  of  Detroit.  Her  church  relations 
are  with  the  society  in  Detroit,  in  which  she  is  interested  and  works,  as  much 
as  fourteen  miles  of  distance  will  permit. 

Mrs.  Dunbar  has  been  correspondent  for  several  papers,  among  which 
is  the  "Cleveland  Leader,"  and  her  racy,  sparkling,  semi-satirical  letters  are 
always  welcomed  by  its  readers.  She  was,  also,  at  times,  a  contributor  to 
the  "Star  in  the  West."  From  the  first  organization  of  the  Woman's  Cen- 
tenary Association,  she  has  taken  an  interest  in  it,  being  at  one  time  its  Vice 
President  for  Ohio. 


392  OUE    WOMAN     WOEKEKS. 

Happy  in  her  domestic  relations,  a  devoted  wife,  a  loving  mother  to  her 
one  little  daughter  of  ten  years,  a  lover  of  the  faith  in  which  she  was  reared , 
a  true  and  loyal  friend  under  aU  circumstances,  and  a  lovely  and  attractive 
woman  whose  friendship  is  to  be  prized,  is  Sarah  E.  Dunbar. 


SARAH    GREGG 


Was  one  of  the  many  of  the  ministrants  of  the  battlefield  and  hospital,  who 
responded  to  the  call  of  the  suffering.  January  1,  1863,  she  went  from 
Ottawa  (the  place  of  her  residence),  to  Mound  City,  and  exerted  all  her 
powers  to  aid  the  seven  hundred  in  the  hospital  there.  She  was  soon  recalled 
to  take  charge  of  Stebbins'  Hospital,  Ottawa.  In  18G3  she  went  to  Vicks- 
burg,  and  brought  a  steamer  load  of  sick  and  wounded  to  St.  Louis,  the 
low  stage  of  water  preventing  further  progress  up  the  river.  Her  husband 
enlisted  the  third  time,  and  she  remained  acting  as  nurse  until  1865,  perform- 
ing an  immense  amount  of  labor,  and  surpassing  the  achievements  of  any 
general,  if  it  be  true  that — 

The  drying  of  a  single  tear  has  more 
Of  honest  fame  than  shedding  seas  of  gore. 


ELIZABETH    D.    STACY 

Is  a  native  of  New  York;  was  married  by  Rev.  N.  Stacy,  to  his  son. 
Judge  E.  C.  Stacy,  at  Wayne,  Penn.,  Feb.  21,  1842.  Her  maiden  name  was 
Heath.  She  completed  medical  studies  (homeopathic)  after  marriage.  Re- 
fused admission  to  medical  lectures  in  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  for  the  atrocious  crime 
of  being  a  woman,  she  perfected  her  studies  elsewhere,  and  attained  a  skill 
which  insured  her  an  extensive  practice.     At  one  time  during  the  War,  she 


DR.    HARRIET  K.    HUNT.  393 

was  the  only  practicing  physician  in  Freeborn  Co.,  Minn.  At  fifteen  she 
took  the  total  abstinence  pledge,  and  in  1808  began  active  temperance  work 
in  Minnesota.  She  has  filled  most  of  the  offices  in  Good  Templary,  and  luis 
many  times  represented  her  lodge  in  the  Minnesota  Grand  Lodge.  In  1872, 
she  represented  Minnesota  in  the  Grand  Lodge  of  the  World,  in  Madison, 
Wis. ;  in  1873,  in  London,  England;  in  1874,  in  Boston,  Mass. ;  in  Louisville, 
Ky.,  in  1876;  in  1878,  Minneapolis,  Minn.  In  187G,  she  assisted  in  organ- 
izing the  Woman's  Temperance  Union  in  Albert  Lea,  and  represented  the 
Union  in  Minneapolis  in  1877,  and  became  one  of  the  Vice  Presidents,  and 
in  1878,  in  Chicago,  and  in  St.  Paid  in  1880.  Mrs.  Stacy  is  an  earnest,  de- 
voted worker  for  temperance  and  morality  and  religion — a  grand  example 
of  self-reliance,  faith  and  devotedness  to  duty.  She  resides  in  Albert  Lea, 
Minnesota. 


GRACIA    SKINNER 


Is  the  widow  of  Rev.  Dolphus  Skinner,  D.D.,  of  Utica,  N.  Y.  She  is 
tenderly  remembered  by  mulitudes  of  our  people,  especially  by  those  of  New 
York.  She  is  one  of  the  ministers'  wives  of  the  olden  time,  whose  latch- 
string  was  ever  out  for  the  wayfaring  minister.  She  was  born  in  Springfield, 
Vt.,  March  16,  1804,  and  was  married  to  that  rare  man,  Dolphus  Skinner, 
September  9,  1825.  She  is  passing  her  declining  years  with  a  son,  in 
Detroit,  Mich.,  and  is  honored  by  all  who  know  her. 


DR.   HARRIET   K.  HUNT, 

The  first  real  "woman  doctor"  in  this  country,  who  received  the  respect 
and  confidence  of  the  people,  has  eaten  salt  at  my  table.  Tt  was  years  ago, 
but  time  will  never  obliterate  her  kindly  pleasant  face  and  hearty  laugh.     It. 

•2C: 


894  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

was  a  query  to  me  how  she  became  a  doctor.  Who  taught  her  was  a  prob- 
lem I  dared  not  ask  her  to  solve  for  me.  It  was  in  the  days  of  saddle-bags, 
nearly  fifty  years  ago,  when  men  doctors  knew  every  thing,  and  kept  what 
they  knew  to  themselves  oftentimes,  or  rather  they  were  not  permitted  to 
impart  it  to  women.  Mrs.  Lucy  Stone  says  she  acquired  her  medical  knowl- 
edge of  Dr.  Valentine  Mott.  God  bless  him !  for  if  there  is  any  one  profes- 
sion women  are  especially  fitted  for  it  is  that  of  ministering  to  the  sick.  Our 
kindly-remembered  Dr.  Hunt  had  struggles  that  few  have  heart  or  nerve  to 
encounter,  but  overcame  them  all,  and  died  in  Boston,  Jan.  2,  1875,  a 
wealthy  woman. 


ELMINA    J.    POWERS. 

This  devoted  Christian  woman  entered  the  hospital  service,  and  labored 
with  great  assiduity  and  success  till  the  close  of  the  war.  She  published  her 
experiences  and  observations  in  a  volume  entiled  "Hospital  PenciUings."  In 
1866  she  entered  St.  Lawrence  Theological  Scool,  as  a  student,  but  at  the 
end  of  six  months  she  was  obliged  to  abandon  her  studies  on  account  of  ill 
health.  She  died  in  Worcester,  Mass.,  September  21,  1871.  She  was  a  pure, 
devoted,  good  woman. 


H.    B.    MANFORD. 


Mrs.  Manford's  maiden  name  was  Bryant.  She  was  born  in  New  York, 
and  was  a  school  teacher  in  Warrenville,  111.,  for  some  years  before  she  was 
married,  in  Arlington,  111.,  July  3,  1844,  to  E.  Manford,  a  licentiate  in  our 
ministry.  She  has  been  of  great  assistance  to  her  husband;  has  acted  as 
assistant  editor  of  a  monthly  periodical,  published  by  him,  entitled  "Man- 
ford's  Magazine."     Some  years  ago  she  traveled  and  lectured  on  temperance 


JUDITH    S.    AND   SUSAN   PLUMMER.  395 

and  canvassed  for  his  magazine  and  books,  and  for  several  years  past  she  has 
been  active  in  local  and  Slate  denominational  work.  She  has  been  Presi- 
dent of  the  Illinois  Woman's  Association  for  several  years. 

She  has  one  child,  a  daughter,  an  estimable  woman,  the  wife  of  Dr. 
Norman  Bridge,  of  Chicago,  a  physician  of  excellent  repute. 


MARY   MONELL 


The  church  in  Lincoln,  Neb.,  owes  its  existence  to  the  Christian  zeal 
and  persistency  of  one  consecrated  woman.  A  mere  handful  of  people,  with- 
out means,  were  unable  to  erect  a  temple  of  worship  in  the  capital  of  Ne- 
braska, when  Mrs.  Monell  set  her  head,  heart  and  hands  to  the  work,  and 
the  result  she  deserved  was  at  length  reached.  It  was  obtained  by  her  earn- 
est appeals  to  a  multitude  of  people,  far  and  near,  involving  an  incredible 
amount  of  labor.  She  sacrificed  her  health  by  her  arduous  labors.  Mrs 
Mon ell's  heart  is  ever  open  to  the  appeals  of  the  needy,  and  is  always  on  the 
watch  to  find  some  one  who  needs  her  charity.  She  is  a  native  of  Hudson, 
N.  Y.,  and  is  a  woman  of  education  and  refinement. 


JUDITH    S.    AND    SUSAN   PLUMMEE. 

The  Universalist  church  in  Lawrence,  Mass.,  has  an  honorable  record. 
The  first  man  killed  in  the  war  of  the  Eebelhon  was  Sumner  H.  Needham, 
who  fell  in  Baltimore,  April  19,  1861,  an  attendant  of  that  church. 
His  was  the  first  funeral  of  a  soldier  killed,  and  the  obsequies  were  con- 
ducted by  Rev.  Geo.  H.  Weaver,  D.D.,  an  honored  minister  in  our  church. 
Among  the  faithful  nurses  in  Washington  hospitals  were  two  sisters,  mem- 
bers of  the  Lawrence  parish,  Judith   S.   Plummer  and  Susan   Plummer. 


390 


OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


They  entered  upon  the  service  very  early  in  1861,  and  were  most  efficient 
and  faithful  in  their  ministrations  to  the  sick  and  wounded.  Thus  the  Law- 
rence pastor,  one  of  his  male  members  and  two  of  his  woman  workers  were 
among  the  first  to  take  a  prominent  part  in  the  great  work  of  the  Civil  War. 


SAEAH    B.    VASSALL. 

Was  a  daughter  of  Stephen  Barton  and  sister  of  Clara.  Born  in  Ox- 
ford, Mass.,  she  married  Vester  VassaU.  She  had  two  children,  Bernard 
Barton  and  Irving  Stetson.  They  removed  to  Washington  in  1856,  and  re- 
mained till  1871,  when  they  returned  to  Massachusetts,  where  she  died  May 
23,  1874.  Her  life  was  filled  with  a  beautiful  faith  and  trust,  and  she  was 
a  model  Universalist  woman  in  faith  and  in  deed. 

The    memories  of  hex-  virtues  yet 

Linger  like  twilight  hues  when  the  bright  sun  has  set. 


MES.    CHAELES    SPEAE, 

Wife  of  the  "Prisoner's  Friend,"  was  a  devoted  attendant  at  the  Saint 
Elizabeth  Hospital,  Washington,  D.  C,  during  the  rebellion. 


SAEAH    THOMPSON 


Sarah  Thompson  was  a  daughter  of  Timothy  Thompson,  who  was  one 
of  the  old  members  of  the  Universalist  church  in  Charlestown,  Mass.  She  was 
a  very  intelligent  Christian  Universalist,  a  true  and  earnest  worker  in  the 


.    ESTHER   GRAVES.  ;-}<)7 

Sunday-school,  which  she  always  called  the  "children's  church,"  or  path  to 
heaven.  She  was  a  fine  talker  and  was  ever  ready  to  speak  of  the  excel- 
lencies of  her  faith,  and  do  all  in  her  power  to  promote  the  spread  of  her 
cherished  belief. 


SARAH     PACKARD, 

Of  Boston,  died  at  the  ripe  age  of  83  years  and  four  months.  She 
was  a  pious,  Christian  woman,  a  devoted  member  of  School  Street  Church, 
and  fully  sympathized  with,  and  seconded,  the  noble  munificence  of  her  hus- 
band, Sylvanus  Packard,  who  founded  the  Packard  professorship  in  Tufts 
College,  Mass. 


MRS.    N.    M.    GAYLORD, 

Whose  husband,  Eev.  N.  M.  Ofaylord,  was  for  several  years  chaplain  of 
Campbell  Hospital,  Washington,  D.  C,  was  of  great  service  to  thousands  of 
sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  who  were  under  her  husband's  care  in  that  great 
establishment. 


ESTHER    GRAVES, 

Of  Bowdoinham,  Me.,  was  a  volunteer  nurse  all  through  the  war.  On 
her  return  home,  after  her  efficient  service,  she  received  an  ovation  from  the 
people  of  Bowdoinham,  without  distinction  of  sect,  for  her  long  and  ardu- 
ous labors  of  love. 


398  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS, 

AURORA    CLARK, 

Of  Springfield,  Maine,  was  a  volunteer  nurse  in  the  Washington  hos- 
pitals. She  married  Robinson,  the  soldier  who  risked  his  hfe  to  protect  Sen- 
ator Seward,  at  the  time  of  President  Lincoln's  assassination. 


THE    UNKNOWN    WOMEN. 


BY    REV.    G.    S.    WEAVER,    D.D. 


In  the  Union  Cemeteries  along  the  track  of  the  late  war,  where  are 
buried  the  soldiers  who  gave  their  lives  to  their  country,  there  are  many 
graves  which  are  marked  with  the  simple  inscription,  "Unknown."  What  is 
meant  is,  that  here  lies  the  dust  of  a  faithful  and  loyal  man  who  died  that 
his  country  might  live,  but  of  whose  name  and  hfe,  nothing  more  is  known. 
And  yet  to  the  thoughtful  and  holiest  patriotism  this  is  sufficient.  The  little 
ridge  of  earth  that  assures  his  countrymen  that  a  brother's  form  took  this 
lowly  bed  that  they  might  have  a  country  to  enjoy,  tells  the  richest  story  that 
can  be  told  to  the  men  who  truly  honor  and  love  their  country.  There  is  no  test 
of  loyalty  to  one's  country  greater  than  to  die  for  it,  and  the  graves  of  these 
unknown  soldiers  will  be  held  in  profound  regard  by  the  American  people  so 
long  as  they  love  the  government  founded  by  their  fathers. 

There  is  a  kind  of  pain  felt  by  the  thoughtful  reader  of  the  world's  his- 
tories, as  he  thinks  of  the  multitudes  of  the  unknown  people  who  constituted 
not  only  the  bone  and  sinew,  but  the  heart  and  soul  of  the  nations  of  men. 
The  histories  tell  us  of  kings,  generals,  diplomats,  founders  of  dynasties  and 
great  institutions,  often  moved  by  pride,  greed,  enmity  or  ambition,  to  their 
greatest  works,  while  the  masses  of  the  honest,  hearty,  wholesome  people 
who  form  the  obscure,  colorless  background  on  which  these  notable  char- 
acters are  made  to  exhibit  their  tawdry  glory,  are  left  even  without  mention 
as  the  nameless  unknown.     It  is  perhaps  one  of  the  necessities  of  history 


THE    UNKNOWN    WOMEN.  :;'.i\t 

that  the  profoundest  and  best  life  of  by  far  the  greatest  number  of  the  people 
has  no  place  in  it;  but  if  it  is  a  necessity,  it  is  one  so  sad,  on  account  of  its 
injustice,  as  to  make  every  history  very  largely  a  cemetery  of  the  unknown 
dead,  through  which  we  walk  with  uncovered  heads  and  saddened,  reverent 
spirits. 

One  can  hardly  read  thoughtfully  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Romans,  in 
which  Paul  commends  with  affectionate  respect, Phoebe,  Priscilla  and  Aquilla, 
.luiiia,  Urbane,  Tryphena,  Tryphosa  and  Julia,  sainted  women  workers  in 
some  of  the  first  Christian  churches,  preachers  it  may  be  with  the  Apostles, 
without  thinking  of  the  great  company  of  timid,  reserved,  sensitive,  bigh- 
souled  women  who  shrank  from  public  hfe,  and  yet  who  were  full  of  faith 
and  love  and  good  works,  whose  souls  were  fountains  of  religion,  and  in 
whose  "hearts  the  Lord  dwelt  by  faith,"  whose  piety  and  noble  living  made 
their  churches  possible  then,  as  such  women  do  now. 

And  a  singular  feeling  of  sadness  may  creep  over  many  readers  of  this 
book,  which  seeks  faithfully  to  give  some  account  of  some  of  the  more  notable 
Women  Workers  of  the  Universalist  Church,  as  they  think  of  many  others 
equally  scholarly,  Christian  and  worthy,  and  who  have  given  equally  faithful 
service  to  the  church  and  humanity,  and  who  are  yet  remanded  to  the  great 
company  of  the  Unknown  who  have  served  the  Lord  and  their  kind.  No 
one  has  had  any  large  acquaintance  with  this  church,  without  observing  the 
intelligence  and  devotion  of  its  women.  From  the  beginning  its  appeal  to 
woman's  soul  was  direct  and  powerful,  and  those  who  received  its  faith,  felt 
its  power  in  stirring  their  aspirations  and  hopes  as  they  had  not  been  stirred 
before.  It  found  woman  under  the  ban  of  a  social  custom  which  gave  her 
soul  no  recognition  beyond  that  of  a  beggar  asking  for  the  crumbs  that  fell 
from  man's  richer  table.  She  had  no  voice  in  file  church,  save  that  of  the 
enquirer.  In  the  home  she  was  a  subject  between  her  husband  and  her 
children,  in  society  she  was  the  underling  that  served  tables  or  man's 
caprices  and  desires  by  turns.  She  might  pick  up  the  crumbs  of 
knowledge  that  fell  from  th<  tables  where  men  enjoyed  their  feasts  of  reason 
and  flows  of  soul,  but  her  mental  stomach  was  not  supposed  to  he  capable  of 
digesting  a  full,  or  even  a  half-meal  of  the  food  <>!'  men.  Women  them- 
selves accepted  this  inferior  position   as  theirs,  by  the  nature  given  them  by 


400  °UR    WOMAN    WOEKERS. 

their  Maker.  They  had  and  sought  for  no  education  beyond  the  commonest 
rudiments.  They  were  not  teachers  even  of  common  schools.  Their  work 
was  in  the  kitchen,  at  the  spinning-wheel  and  the  loom,  their  pleasure  was  in 
the  parlor  and  boudoir.  There  was  scarcely  a  protest  in  the  best  woman's 
soul  against  this  servility  which  an  ignorant  and  cruel  barbarism  had  im- 
posed upon  them,  because  the  scale  of  avoirdupois  tipped  against  them. 

When  Univeisahsm  came  to  them  with  its  God  of  love  and  justice,  its 
spiritual  democracy,  its  free  and  natural  reading  of  the  New  Testament,  with- 
out the  interposition  of  an  orthodox  interpretation,  they  began  to  feel  that 
somehow  woman  had  a  place  in  Christianity  that  they  had  not  seen  before. 
They  read  of  Elizabeth  and  Mary,  and  the  revelations  made  through  them, 
and  the  respect  given  to  them ;  of  the  women  who  received  the  Savior,  and 
of  his  ministration  to  them;  of  their  being  "last  at  the  cross  and  the  first  at 
the  tomb ; "  of  his  appearing  first  to  them  after  his  resurrection,  and  making 
them  the  heralds  of  that  great  Gospel  which  brought  life  and  immortality  to 
light;  of  their  being  at  the  ascension,  and  in  the  place  where  the  disciples 
were  gathered  waiting  for  the  return  of  their  Master  in  spirit,  and  were  of 
"one  mind  and  one  accord,"  praying  and  praising,  till  the  glory  of  Pentecost 
burst  upon  them — upon  the  men  and  women  alike,  and  on  God's  servants 
and  on  his  handmaidens  he  poured  out  his  spirit  and  they  prophesied  or 
preached.  They  read  Paul's  statement  that  "there  is  neither  male  nor  fe- 
male, buL  both  are  one  in  Christ,"  or  alike,  and  his  many  statements  about 
the  women  who  were  the  servants  of  the  early  churches,  and  who  "labored 
with  him  in  the  Lord,"  some  of  whom  are  spoken  of  and  commended  to  the 
churches  as  though  they  were  preachers;  and  then  beyond  all  this  they  read 
of  the  responsibility  of  each  human  soul,  the  high  life  of  aspiration  and  ser- 
vice, and  the  great  work  of  doing  good  to  which  it  is  called  by  the  Christian 
religion,  and  they  began  to  think  and  feel  that  the  life  of  God's  free  children 
was  before  'hem  as  before  their  brothers.  And  this  thinking  and  feeling 
grew  aa  other  good  things  grew  with  them,  until  a  great  revolution  has  been 
wrought  in  the  condition  and  life  of  women.  Universalism  was  indeed  like 
the  Gospel  when  it  was  first  preached,  leaven  put  into  the  measure  of  hu- 
manity, and  it,  worked  among  the  women  just  as  it  did  at  first,  awakening 
them  to  the  new  life  of  development  and  duty  to  which  it  called  them. 


THE    UNKNOWN    WOMEN.  401 

That  woman  received  the  first  direct  uplift  of  Christ's  helps  in  a  greater 
degree  than  man,  is  no  doubt  true,  because  she  was  in  a  more  desperate  need 
of  that  help.  She  was  not  only  under  the  heavy  weight  of  her  own  sins, 
but  under  the  cruel  tyranny  of  her  brother  and  the  grinding  social  customs 
which  he  had  established.  During  the  early  period  of  the  Christian  Church, 
Christ's  Gospel  wrought  mightily  for  woman  and  for  man  through  woman, 
as  ii  wrought  mightily  for  truth  and  grace  in  the  souls,  and  the  social  life  of 
men  and  women;  and  its  progress  was  rapid  and  powerful;  but  that  progress 
was  more  rapid  than  thorough,  wider  than  it  was  deep,  and  brought  into  the 
church  multitudes  who  were  only  half  converted,  or  not  so  much  as  that, 
who  hindered  the  legitimate  work  of  the  church,  weighted  it  with  falsity  and 
evil,  turned  it  to  worldly  and  political  uses,  and  finally  wrought  it  into  some- 
thing else  than  the  church  which  Christ  and  his  Apostles  left  it,  and  made  it 
an  abettor  of  many  human  oppressions  and  false  doctrines  and  practices. 

In  this  crippled,  changed,  corrupted  condition  it  struggled  on  through 
many  centuries,  darkened,  perverted,  used  by  tyrants,  bigots  and  zealots,  by 
turns,  till  Luther  struck  his  great  blow  for  its  partial  deliverance.  Then  fol- 
lowed a  season  of  desperate  struggle  between  Protestant  and  Catholic.  As 
that  subsided  the  renaissance  of  Universalism  followed,  and  the  old  first  work 
of  renewing  men  and  institutions  began  again,  and  that  work  was,  as  at  first, 
felt  powerfully  by  the  women  who  were  reached  by  it.  It  was  to  them  a  great 
joy.  They  received  their  children  into  their  arms,  not  as  specimens  of  total 
depravity,  but  as  pure  souls  made  in  God's  image — gifts  of  divine  love  to  be 
brought  up  in  the  nurture  of  the  Lord,  and  to  be  enjoyed  not  only  in  this 
world  but  in  the  one  to  come.  They  received  their  girls  as  equally  dear  to 
God  as  their  boys.  They  looked  upon  their  families  as  God's,  not  to  be 
separated  by  sin  or  death,  but  to  dwell  together  forever  in  the  house  not 
made  with  hands,  and  their  homes  where  were  enkindled  the  sweetest  and 
strongest  loves  of  the  human  heart,  as  symbols  of  the  everlasting  Home  in 
heaven,  in  which  the  whole  family  shall  at  last  enjoy  the  beatitudes  of  re- 
deemed spirits. 

And  very  soon  they  began  to  make  themselves  fell  in  our  literature  and 
our  churches,  but  most  in  our  homes  and  in  the  social  influences  which  went 
out  from  them.     When  we  began  to  found  schools  by  which  our  church  could 


402  OUE   WOMAN    WOEKEES. 

educate  its  children  in  its  own  way,  it  received  the  hearty  approval  of  our 
women,  and  they  have  educated  great  numbers  of  their  sons  and  daughters 
in  them.  Of  our  four  coUeges,  three  give  equal  advantages  to  young  men 
and  women,  and  have  done  so  from  the  beginning.  The  other  was  at  the 
beginning,  and  remains  yet  too  much  under  the  conservative  influence  of 
opinions  which  hold  woman  as  incapacitated  for  the  higher  walks  of  intel- 
lectual life — opinions  not  born  of  Universalism,  but  of  the  avoirdupois  of 
masculinity.  In  this  work  of  education  our  women  have  taken  a  noble  and 
active  part.  They  have  not  only  given  it  their  approval  and  their  youth,  but 
their  money.  Many  and  many  a  noble  woman  in  our  church  standing  behind 
her  husband,  has  influenced  him  to  give  bountifully  to  our  institutions. 
These  invisible  benefactors  are  very  largely  among  the  Unknown  in  the  record 
book  of  our  church. 

In  the  Sunday-school  work  of  our  church,  too,  there  are  many  who  have 
done  most  intelligent  and  useful  work,  as  superintendents,  teachers  and  li- 
brarians, in  sowing  the  seeds  of  truth,  in  training  young  minds  in  the  right 
ways  of  thought  and  life,  and  in  winning  their  souls  to  the  Savior,  who  have 
yet  been  so  private  and  undemonstrative  in  public  ways,  that  they  can  go  into 
the  record  only  as  the  Unknown. 

But  more  and  better  of  this  womanly  worth,  which  adorns  the  kingdom 
of  the  Master,  is  found  in  the  richly  intelligent  and  strongly  endowed  sords 
of  so  many  of  the  women  of  our  church,  who  are  the  inspiring  and  sustain- 
ing spirits  of  our  faith  and  work  all  over  the  land.  We  have  scarcely  a 
church  in  efficient  order  that  does  not  owe  its  existence  and  continued  life 
to  the  godly  women  who  put  the  best  of  their  souls  into  it,  as  much  as  to  the 
men  who  help  it  and  the  ministers  who  preach  to  it.  It  is  the  experience  of 
every  minister  that  every  church  to  which  he  has  ministered,  has  a  strong  pow- 
er of  womanly  worth  to  which  it  owes  in  no  small  degree  its  success.  Every 
minister  knows  that  he  owes  much  of  his  own  success  to  the  encouragement, 
sympathy  and  helpfulness  of  the  noble  women,  who  put  much  of  their  best 
life  into  the  cause  of  the  Master.  How  constant  are  the  prayers  and  affections 
of  every  true  Christian  woman,  for  the  church  of  her  choice  and  the  cause  it 
represents.  How  genuine  and  holy  are  her  devotions  to  the  religion  that  so 
blesses  her  soul  and  enriches  her  life.     These  women,  so  strong  in  the  mind 


MINISTERS     WIVES.  _  403 

and  heart  and  power  of  usefulness,  that  they  are  not  only  in  a  large  degree 
the  life  of  the  church,  hut  equally  the  life  and  leaven  of  society,  are,  for  the 
most  part,  so  absorbed  in  the  private  ways  and  walks  of  life,  that  their  names 
must  be  relegated  to  that  great  class  who  go  into  the  record  as  Unknown; 
and  yet  they  are  the  Lord's  blessed  ones,  who  are  doing  his  work  and  honor- 
ing his  religion,  and  brightening  and  saving  the  world  he  died  to  redeem. 

No  mention  of  the  names  of  our  women  known  to  the  public,  as  the 
Women  "Workers  of  our  Church,  would,  therefore,  be  just,  unless  sujiplemented 
by  an  appreciative  recognition  of  the  worth  and  work  of  the  less  public,  but 
not  less  meritorious  characters  and  services  of  the  Unnamed  Many  who  are 
honoring  our  church  with  the  glory  of  Christian  Womanhood. 


MINISTERS'   WIVES. 


BY     REV.     J.     W.     HANSON,     D.D. 

Besides  the  unknown  and  unrecorded  wives,  mothers,  sisters  and  daugh- 
ters of  generous  givers  to  our  cause,  who  often  have  prompted  the  husband, 
son,  brother  or  father  to  the  generous  act;  besides  those  who  have  co-oper- 
ated with  teachers  in  our  institutions  of  learning;  besides  the  woman  teach- 
ers m  our  Sunday-schools  and  colleges  and  academies;  besides  the  faithful 
members  of  auxiliary  associations;  besides  the  great  multitude  of  consecrated 
ones,  some  of  whom  have  been  found  in  every  church,  parish  and  Sunday- 
school,  filling  the  great  company  of  the  Unknown,  so  eloquently  described 
in  the  foregoing  by  Dr.  Weaver,  there  is  one  blessed  group  that  must  not  be 
left  unnoticed — Ministers'  Wives. 

Of  all  the  women  we  have  ever  known,  our  ministers'  wives  deserve 
canonization.  They  have  been  t\w  saints  in  our  calendar.  They  have 
been  obliged  to  be  "anxious  about  many  things,"  while  they  often,  also,  not 
only  have  chosen  "the  good  part,"  but  have  been  themselves  by  far  the  bet- 
ter part  of  many  a  matrimonial  co-partnership,  which,  but  for  their  influence 


404  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

would  have  been  but  a  sorry  enterprise.  We  have  seen  Martha  and  Mary 
combined  in  more  than  one  minister's  wife,  and  sometime  a  Dorcas,  a  Lydia 
and  a  Cornelia  superadded,  and  the  part  of  each  sustained  as  consistently  as 
though  only  the  one  was  to  be  filled.  The  faithful  wife,  the  devoted 
mother,  the  kindly  and  peace-promoting  neighbor,  the  dispenser  of  charity 
among  the  poor,  as  busy  in  public  as  though  home  had  no  duties,  and  as 
active  at  home  as  though  that  were  the  exclusive  arena  of  her  activities — 
how  many  a  pastor  and  how  many  a  parish  has  been  compelled,  as  she  has 
laid  her  burden  down,  to  cry  with  the  poet, 

In  this  dim  Avorld  of  crowding  cares 
We  scarcely  know,  till  wildered  eyes 
See  white  wings,  lessening  up  the  skies  - 

The  angel  with  us  unawares. 

Our  most  successful  ministers  have  confessed,  what  every  useful  one 
among  them  would  acknowledge,  and  what  the  more  discerning  have  per- 
ceived, but  what,  alas!  has  escaped  the  observation  of  the  multitude,  that 
the  abilities  and  efforts  of  the  successful  minister  were  in  many  ways  supple- 
mented and  complemented  by  the  silent  partner  in  the  matrimonial  firm,  that 

Sternest  critic,  safest  guide. 

The  dear  wife  angel  of  the  home. 

Many  a  graduate  from  the  schools  runs  the  gauntlet  of  professors  and 
classmates  with  all  sorts  of  defects  of  manner  and  matter,  of  composition  and 
style,  of  gesticulation  and  habit,  that  no  one  else  will  ever  mention,  and  that 
only  she,  the  intelligent,  sensitive  monitor,  who  takes  him  in  hand  in  the  se- 
clusion of  the  home  circle,  sees,  and  when  he  is  keenly  sensitive  to  his  recent 
short  comings,  she,  his  wife,  who  hears  for  the  congregation,  by  the  persist- 
ent attrition  of  loving  criticism,  flails  away  his  chaff,  grinds  off  the  obstruct- 
ing faults,  until  the  rough  ashlar  is  "polished  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace." 
The  continued  improvement  of  many  a  pulpiteer  is  due  to  the  constant  sug- 
gestions of  a  loving  wife.  Sidney  Smith  called  his  wife  his  "fooloineter." 
It  must  have  been  because  she  so  heard  for  the  congregation  that  her  hus- 
band would  be  foolish  not  to  profit  by  her  advice. 


MINISTERS     WIVES.  405 

Many  a  young  minister  is  a  learned  simpleton ;  familiar  with  books,  he 
knows  little  else.  In  a  half-dozen  calls  he  can  undo  the  work  of  his  best 
sermon,  lie  has  a  deal  of  talent,  possibly,  but  not  a  thimbleful  of  tact. 
What  he  must  learn,  if  at  all,  by  slow  degrees,  and  after  the  much  tribulation 
of  repeated  failure,  his  wife,  with  fine  feminine  tact  knows  intuitively,  and 
for  the  first  few  years  of  married  life,  and  sometimes  till  one  or  the  other 
obeys  the  call  to  depart  from  life,  she  has  the  double  duty  to  perform  of  un- 
doing his  mistakes  and  teaching  a  dull  pupil. 

How  ever  the  unmarried  minister  achieves  success,  overcoming  the  natural 
greenness  of  the  graduated  theologue,  and  steering  clear  of  the  pitfalls  that 
are  strewn  along  his  pathway  as  he  pursues  his  devious  and  solitary  way,  we 
can  not  explain,  unless  it  be  true  that 

Some  sweet  little  cherub  sits  up    aloft. 
And  looks  out  for  the  life  of 

such  as  are  destined  to  pursue  the  journey  "in  maiden  meditation,  fancy 
free."  But  the  rule  proved  by  its  exceptions  is  that  the  unaccredited  angel 
whose  plastic  hand  moidds  the  powers  of  the  successful  minister  into  in- 
creasing usefulness,  wears  the  disguise  of  muslin  or  silk,  and  is  known  as 
"only  the  minister's  wife." 

By  far  the  larger  number  of  those  who  have  wrought  great  usefulness 
in  this  sphere  of  hfe,  have  been  those  who  have  devoted  their  energies  to 
their  families.  They  have  cheered  and  comforted  careworn  husbands,  have 
relieved  them  from  the  petty  anxieties  that  would  have  engrossed  and  weak- 
ened their  faculties,  and  by  what  would  be  drudgery,  servitude,  were  it  not 
the  highest  and  holiest  of  service,  self-sacrifice,  they  have  belonged  to  the 
order  of  angelhood  because  they  have  been  "ministering  spirits,"  and  so  were 
no  less  angels  though  they  wore  the  disguise  of  wife,  and  were  arrayed  in 
garments  fitted  for  household  toil. 

It  is  no  more  true  that  all  God's  angels  are  ministering  spirits,  than  that 
all  ministering  spirits  rise  into  the  altitude  bf  angelhood,  and  thus  such  lives 
of  sacrifice  and  service,  often  of  martyrdom  to  lowly  duties,  as  these  (.bet 
women  have  lived,  have  won  for  them  the  crowns  that  only  those  nearest  the. 
throne  can  wear.     They  have  filled  their  homes  with  the  previous  aroma  of 


40G  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

their  saintliness.     They  have  touched  with  divine  influence  those  with  whom 

they  have  mingled. 

None  knew  them  but  to  love  them, 
None  named  them  but  to  praise. 

Living  they  glorified  life,  and  when  they  darkened  earth  by  leaving  it 
and  ascending,  they  added  a  new  attraction  to  heaven.  Many  such  we  have 
known  among  the  dead,  do  know  among  the  living,  their  acquaintance 
a  precious  privilege,  their  companionship  a  benediction.  "We  would  be  glad 
to  record  the  names  of  many  of  the  living  and  the  dead,  deserving  places 
among  these  "  angels  of  the  household. "  We  cannot  resist  the  desire  to 
name  a  representative  of  the  blessed  group.  Harriet  E.  Tuttle,  whose 
maiden  name  was  Merriman,  was  born  in  Connecticut,  July  12,  1824;  was 
married  to  Rev.  J.  H.  Tuttle,  in  Salisbury,  N.  Y.,  in  August,  1819;  settled 
in  Fulton,  N.  Y.,  till  1853,  in  Rochester  till  1859,  in  Chicago,  111.,  till  1866, 
and  during  the  remainder  of  her  life  in  Minneapolis,  Minn.  She  died  in 
Dresden,  Germany,  in  1871,  while  absent  with  her  son,  George  Montgomery. 
Her  remains  lie  in  Rosehill,  Chicago.  She  was  a  model  minister's  wife,  de- 
voted, consecrated,  successful  in  aU  the  duties  of  the  lot  in  life  to  which  she 
seemed  called  by  divine  appointment.  In  manifold  ways  she  filled  the  sphere 
of  duty,  and  in  every  parish  where  she  labored,  in  every  home  she  visited,  in 
every  heart  in  which  she  is  remembered.  She  is  one  of  those  of  whom  the 
poet  spake : 

Only  the  actions  of  the  just 

Smell  sweet  and  blossom  in  the  dust. 

She  was  typical  of  a  multitude  of  like  precious  spirits,  who  must  be  re- 
manded to  the  muster  roll  of  the  "Unknown." 

How  many  there  are,  whose  names  need  not  be  written,  whose  beautiful 
hands  are  busy  with  household  cares,  whose  feet  are  ever  moving  to  fulfill 
offices  of  service,  whose  record  earth  will  never  know,  but  whose  names  and 
deeds  are  written  in  the  Book  of  Life! 


MISCELLANEOUS. 


THE    CHAPIN   HOME. 

The  Cbapin  Home  for  the  Aged  and  Infirm  is  situated  on  Sixty-sixth  and 
Sixty-seventh  streets,  between  Lexington  and  Third  avenues,  New  York  City. 
It  was  named  by  its  original  incorporators  in  honor  of  Rev.  Edward  Hubbell 
Chapin,  D.D.,  LL.D.,  the  pre-eminent  pulpit  orator  of  America,  of 
whose  Church  of  the  Divine  Paternity  it  is  the  beloved  and  fortunate  child. 
The  grounds  with  the  building,  thirty-seven  and  one-half  acres  of  land  in 
Franklin  County,  and  eight  lots  in  Maple  Grove  Cemetery,  are  valued  at 
$83,000.  Besides  these  it  possessed,  in  1881,  cash  assets  of  $40,860.  The 
receipts  during  the  year  ending  May,  1881,  were  $18,538. -41,  and  its  expenses 
$9,003.31.  It  was  incorporated  May  0,  1809,  for  the  purpose  set  forth  in  its 
expressive  title,  with  power  to  possess  real  estate  to  the  value  of  $100,000, 
and  personal  property  to  the  value  of  $500,000.  An  annual  contribution  of 
$10  constitutes  any  one  properly  endorsed  an  annual  member,  and  $100  a 
life  member.  Only  those  over  sixty-five  years  old  are  eligible  as  inmates, 
and  $300  is  the  price  of  admission  fee.  The  greatest  care  is  taken  that  only 
most  respectable  persons  in  reduced  circumstances  are  admitted  to  this  beau- 
tiful home,  and  all  such  are  required  to  surrender  to  the  trustees  ah  property 
in  possession  or  that  may  be  acquired  after  admission,  to  go  into  the  treasury 
of  the  Home.  During  the  year  ending  May,  1881,  there  were  fifty-two  in. 
mates,  aggregating  three  thousand  nine  hundred  years,  averaging  seventy- 
five  years,  the  oldest  one  hundred  and  four,  the  youngest  sixty-eight. 

The  officers  for  1881  were:   President,  Mrs.  E.  H.  Chapin;   Vice-Presi- 


408  OUE    WOMAN     WOEKEES. 

dents,  Mrs.  N.  L.  Cort,  Mrs.  C.  P.  Huntington,  Mrs.  C.  L.  Stickney;  Treas- 
urer, Mrs.  D.  D.  T.  Marshall;  Corresponding  Secretary,  Mrs.  D.  D.  You- 
mans;  Recording  Secretary,  Mrs.  V.  C.  King. 

Trustees  elected  May  11,  1881:  Mrs.  M.  M.  Barkalow,  Mrs.  A.  P. 
Brainerd,  Mrs.  E.  H.  Chapin,  Mrs.  N.  L.  Cort,  Mrs.  T.  Crane,  Mrs.  G.  L. 
dwell,  Mrs.  C.  Davison,  Mrs.  C.  H.  Delarnater,  Mrs.  M.  Ferris,  Mrs.  W.  S. 
Fogg,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Holden,  Mrs.  J.  W.  Howard,  Mrs.  C.  P.  Huntington,  Mrs  .N. 
Huggins,  Mrs.  J.  A.  Jameson,  Mrs.  G.  Kent,  Mrs.  V.  C.  King,  Mrs.  G.  G. 
Lake,  Mrs.  D.  D.  T.  Marshall,  Mrs.  T.  F.  McDowell,  Mrs.  G.  W.  Pearce, 
Mrs.  H.  J.  Price,  Mrs.  I.  0.  Rhines,  Mrs.  A.  Slmmway,  Mrs.  A.  A.  Smith, 
Mrs.  E.  P.  Smith,  Mrs.  C.  L.  Stickney,  Mrs.  J.  A.  Fithian,  Mrs.  J.  W.  Whit- 
field, Mrs.  D.  D.  Youmans;  Matron,  Mrs.  M.  L.  Selby. 

Advisory  Committee:  Dr.  J.  M.  Pullman,  Rev.  C.  H.  Eaton,  Rev.  S.  A. 
Gardner,  D.  D.  T.  Marshall,  C.  L.  Stickney,  E.  B.  FeUows,  C.  P.  Hunting- 
ton, N.  L.  Cort,  E.  R.  Holden,  H.  Wilson. 

Executive  Committee:  Mrs.  N.  L.  Cort,  Mrs.  D.  D.  Youmans,  Mrs.  M. 
M.  Barkalow,  Mrs.  N.  Huggins,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Holden,  Mrs.  A.  A.  Smith,  Mrs. 
G.  Kent,  Mrs.  A.  Slmmway,  Mrs.  G.  L.  Crowell,  Mrs.  C.  H.  Delarnater; 
Counsel,  Hon.  Ethan  Allen,  Geo.  H.  Foster. 

Corporators :  Mrs.  Edwin  H.  Chapin,  Mrs.  D.  D.  T.  Marshall,  Mrs. 
Emily  A.  Wall,  Mrs.  M.  K.  Pelletreau,  Mrs.  John  W.  Cochrane,  Mrs.  Joseph 
A.  Jameson,  Mrs.  George  G.  Lake,  Mrs.  Charles  L.  Stickney,  Mrs.  Adolph 
Rusch,  Mrs.  James  Cushing,  Jr.,  Mrs.  Mary  Ferris,  Mrs.  George  Hoffman, 
Mrs.  Colis  P.  Huntington,  Mrs.  Caroline  M.  Sawyer,  Mrs.  C.  S.  Groot,  Mrs. 
William  M.  Whitney,  Mrs.  Lemuel  Smith,  Miss  Sarah  Phillips,  their  associ- 
ates and  successors. 

Life  Members:  Mr.  W.  Banks,  Mr.  W.  M.  Banks,  Mrs.  J.  Bryan,  Mr. 
P.  T.  Barnum,  Mr.  J.  S.  Barron,  Mr.  G.  H.  Bissell,  Mr.  J.  L.  Clark,  Mrs.  J. 
L.  Clark,  Mrs.  E.  H.  Chapin,  Mrs.  T.  Crane,  Mrs.  J.  W.  Cochrane,  Mrs.  J. 
Cushing,  Mrs.  N.  L.  Cort,  Mrs.  W.  L.  Cooper,  Mrs.  R.  B.  Connolly,  Mr.  J. 
M.  Duclos,  Mr.  R.  L.  Darragh,  Mrs.  W.  H.  Daly,  Mrs.  M.  Ferris,  Mrs.  T.  J. 
S.  Flint,  Mrs.  S.  French,  Mrs.  J.  A.  Fithian,  Mrs.  G.  Fulton,  Mrs.  D.  C. 
(lately,  Miss  S.  Gage,  Mrs.  C.  S.  Groot,  Mrs.  C.  F.  Goodhue,  Mrs.  J.  W. 
Howard,  Mr.  C.   P.  Huntington,  Mrs.   C.   P.  Huntington,  Mr.  G.  Hoffman, 


THE   CHAPIN    HOME.  III! I 

Mrs.  G.  Hoffman,  Mr.  J.  H.  Harbeck,  Mrs.  J.  H.  Harbeck,  Mr.  A.  H. 
Hart,  Mr.  J.  H.  Hart,  Mrs.  A.  Haverneyer,  Mr.  E.  S.  Hutchins,  Mr.  J.  A. 
Jameson,  Mrs.  J.  A.  Jameson,  Mrs.  F.  Keii'fer,  Mr.  G.  G.  Lake,  Mrs.  Gr.  G. 
Lake,  Mr.  D.  D.  T.  Marshall,  Mrs.  D.  D.  T.  Marshall,  Mrs.  A.  Mellen,  Mr. 
R.  Martin,  Miss  R.  Morrow,  Mr.  G.  Nason,  Mrs.  A.  Osborn,  Mrs.  J.  Peters, 
Mr.  M.  K.  Pelletrau,  Mrs.  M.  K.  Pelletrau,  Miss  S.  Phillips,  Mr.  M.  H.  Perry, 
Mr.  E.  H.  Riker,  Mr.  I.  0.  Rhines,  Mrs.  I.  0.  Rhines,  Mrs.  A.  Ruscli,  Mr. 
A.  Rusch,  Mr.  B.  F.  Romaine,  Mrs.  B.  F.  Romaine,  Mr.  C.  L.  Stickney, 
Mrs.  C.  L.  Stickney,  Mr.  L.  Smith,  Mrs.  C.  M.  Sawyer,  Mrs.  C.  A.  Soule, 
Airs.  E.  T.  Sherman,  Mrs.  H.  G.  Stebbins,  Mrs.  E.  Stephenson,  Mrs.  E.  A. 
Wall,  Mrs.  E.  Weston,  Mr.  W.  M.  Whitney,  Mr.  J.  Weeks,  Mrs.  H.  Wilson. 
Associate  Members :  Mrs.  D.  0.  Archer,  Mrs.  M.  M.  Barkalow,  Mrs.  H. 
15.  Brundrette,  Mrs.  N.  G.  Bradford,  Mrs.  B.  W.  Bradford,  Mrs.  A.  P.  Brain- 
mi,  Mr.  N.  L.  Cort,  Miss  E.  Cort,  Mrs.  G.  L.  Crowell,  Mrs.  M.  L.  dwell, 
Jr.,  Mrs.  T.  Crowell,  Mrs.  M.  Chamberlain,  Mrs.  J.  Demarest,  Mr.  T.  J. 
Davis,  Mrs.  C.  H.  Delaniater,  Mrs.  C.  Davison,  Mrs.  E.  Elsworth,  Rev.  C.  H. 
Eaton,  Mr.  A.  Follett,  Mrs.  A.  Follett,  Mr.  E.  B.  Fellows,  Mrs.  W.  S.  Fogg, 
Mrs.  J.  W.  Frothingham,  Mrs.  M.  T.  Goddard,  Mrs.  N.  Huggins,  Mrs.  J.  P. 
Hnggins,  Mr.  F.  C.  Haverneyer,  Mr.  E.  R.  Holden,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Holden,  Mr. 
W.  J.  Hutchinson,  Mrs.  C.  H.  Jacquelin,  Mrs.  G.  Kent,  Mrs.  V.  C.  King, 
Mrs.  G.  W.  Kruger,  Mrs.  C.  G.  Lippincott,  Mr.  Q.  McAdam,  Mrs.  T.  F.  Mc- 
Dowell, Mrs.  W.  H.  Neilson,  Mrs.  E.  Opdyke,  Mrs.  R.  P.  Perrin,  Mrs.  G.  W. 
Pearce,  Mrs.  T.  S.  H.  Pearson,  Mrs.  C.  T.  Perry,  Mrs.  H.  J.  Price,  Rev.  J. 
M.  Pullman,  Mrs.  E.  Reed,  Mrs.  W.  Scott,  Mrs.  M.  G.  Seaman,  Mrs.  A. 
Shumway,  Mrs.  A.  A.  Smith,  Mrs.  E.  P.  Smith,  Mrs.  C.  L.  Stickney,  Jr., 
Rev.  E.  C.  Sweetser,  Mrs.  S.  Tousey,  Mrs.  H.  Taylor,  Mrs.  C.  F.  Taggart, 
Mis.  A.  A.  Van  Tine,  Mrs.  D.  Van  Buren,  Mrs.  J.  Y.  Watkins,  Mrs.  J.  Y. 
Watkins,  Jr.,  Mrs.  J.  W.  Whitfield,  Mr.  H.  Wilson,  Mrs.  R.  T.  Woodward, 
Mrs.  C.  F.  Wallace,  Mrs.  D.  I).  Youmans. 

The  annual  report  for  May,  1881,  closes  in  these  words: 
"In  closing  our  report  we  be,L,r  leave  to  remind  our  friends  that  we  have 
no  permanent   fond,   ami,  although  our   faith   is   strong   that  the  'ban-el  of 
meal  shall  not  waste,  neither  shall  the  cruse  of  oil  fail,'  still  it  rests  with  us 
and  with  you  that  this  gracious  and  filial  charity  shall  not  lie  restricted  in  i  + 
"  27 


410  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

ministrations,  and,  more  than  this,  that  it  shall  be  placed  beyond  the  neces- 
sity of  constant  appeals  to  your  generosity  by  a  sufficient  permanent  founda- 
tion." 

This  beautiful  charity  is  honorable  to  the  sisterhood  of  the  head,  heart 
and  hand,  that  have  established  and  sustain  it.  The  most  cultivated  and 
accomplished  of  the  Universalist  ladies  of  New  York  co-operate  in  its  support, 
thus  proving  themselves  to  be  fully  worthy  to  occupy  the  front  rank  among 
"Our  Woman  Workers."  May  the  affluence  of  the  great  metropolis  flow  into 
the  treasury  of  the  Home,  until  its  ability  to  aid  shall  be  commensurate  with 
the  needs  of  the  needy  and  the  large  sympathies  of  those  who  have  estab- 
lished and  sustain  it. 

While  these  pages  were  passing  through  the  press  Mrs.  Chapin  died  sud- 
denly, in  Kockport,  Mass.,  July  22,  1881,  aged  sixty-three  years.  Her  hus- 
band, Rev.  Dr.  Chapin,  died  Dec.  26,  1880. 

Mrs  Sophia  Hoffman,  mentioned  above,  gave  the  first  money  toward 
the  Home,  and  was  appointed  to  lay  the  corner  stone  of  the  building.  She 
has  been  greatly  favored  in  possessing  the  desire  to  bestow  benefits  on  the 
needy,  and  the  means  to  gratify  the  divine  disposition. 


THE   WOMAN'S   CENTENAEY 
ASSOCIATION. 

The  Woman's  Centenary  Association  was  one  of  the  outgrowths  of  the 
centenary  year  of  the  Universalist  church.  During  the  Spring  and  Summer 
of  1859,  when  the  plan  of  raising  the  sum  of  $200,000,  to  be  called  "The 
Murray  Fund,"  in  commemoration  of  the  one  hundredth  anniversary  of  the 
tblishment  of  the  church  in  America,  was  being  discussed,  it  occurred  to 
some  thoughtful  minds  that  the  women  ought  to  be  called  upon  to  take  a 
distin:!  and  active  part,  and  at  the  meeting  of  the  General  Convention  in 
Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  in  September,  when  the  work  of  the  coming  year  became  the 


WOMAN  S    CENTENARY    ASSOCIATION.  411 

theme  of  the  convention.  On  the  morning  of  the  third  day  of  the  session  a 
meeting  of  women  was  called  in  the  vestry,  to  consider  the  importance  of  the 
subject. 

Mrs.  D.  C.  Tomlinson  was  called  to  the  chair.  Mrs.  F.  J.  M.  Whit- 
comh,  Secretary.  Mrs.  Eliza  Bailey  led  in  prayer,  invoking  the  divine  bless- 
ing  and  asking  for  light  and  guidance  on  hehalf  of  the  women  about  to 
engage  in  it.  Mrs.  Caroline  A.  Soule  then  made  an  eloquent,  stirring  speech, 
setting  forth  the  importance  of  enlisting  all  the  forces  of  the  denomination 
to  secure  the  best  results.  Rev.  D.  C.  Tomlinson  came  in  from  the  conven- 
tion and  addressed  the  meeting  with  great  zeal  and  earnestness.  Brief 
speeches  were  made  by  Mrs.  Bailey  and  others,  after  which  the  "Woman's 
Centenary  Aid  Association"  was  duly  organized.  A  canvass  for  membership 
was  made,  and  the  foundation  of  our  Memorial  Fund  was  laid  in  the  sum 
of  .S^~:}  subscribed  before  the  close  of  the  meeting. 

On  motion,  Mrs.  C.  A.  Soule  was  elected  President  of  the  Association; 
Mrs.  D.  C.  Tomlinson,  Recording  Secretary;  Mrs.  F.  J.  M.  Whitcomb,  Cor- 
responding Secretary;  Mrs.  J.  G.  Adams,  Treasurer.  Vice  President  for 
Maine,  Mrs.  J.  A.  Stockwell;  for  New  Hampshire,  Mrs.  S.  H.  McCollester; 
Vermont,  Mrs.  J.  H.  Farns worth;  Massachusetts,  Mrs.  H.  A.  Bingham;  Con- 
necticut, Mrs.  C.  A.  Skinner;  Rhode  Island,  Mrs.  L.  W.  Ballou;  New  York, 
Mrs.  L.  W.  Brown;  Pennsylvania,  Mrs.  A.  C.  Thomas;  New  Jersey,  Mrs.  C. 
M.  Norton;  Maryland,  Mrs.  J.  H.  Mason;  District  of  Columbia,  Mrs.  A.  B. 
Grosh;  Virginia,  Mrs.  S.  J.  Ward  well;  Ohio,  Mrs.  J.  S.  Cantwell;  Indiana, 
Mrs.  A.  W.  Bruce;  Illinois,  Mrs.  G.  B.  Marsh;  Michigan,  Mrs.  H.  L.  Hay- 
ward;  Minnesota,  Mrs.  Paris  Gibson;  Wisconsin,  Mrs.  E.  T.  Wilkes;  Iowa, 
Mrs.  W.  R.  Chamberlain;  Missouri,  Mrs.  J.  G.  Hull;  Kansas,  Mrs.  L.  Den- 
man;  California,  Mrs.  J.  Hale;  Nebraska,  Mrs.  J.  D.  Monell. 

The  corner-stone  of  the  Murray  Fund  was  laid  by  the  Illinois  branch  of 
the  Woman's  Centenary  Aid  Association,  in  the  handsome  amount  of 
$500,  the  net  profits  of  an  entertainment  held  in  the  vestry  of  St.  Paid's 
Church,  Chicago — the  first  entertainment  ever  gotten  up  by  the  women  of 
our  church  for  a  national  denominational  purpose.  The  total  amount  of  the 
money  raised  by  the  Woman's  Centenary  Aid  Association  was  $35,974.26; 
the  expenses  were  S77o\73;   donation  to  the  Buffalo  church,  $200;  put  into 


412  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

the  treasury  of  the  General  Convention  for  the  Murray  Fund,  $35,000.53. 
Nearly  13,000  women  became  members,  their  contributions  varying  from  $1 
to  $100,  $200,  $300,  and  in  one  case  reaching  as  high  as  $1,000. 

The  success  of  the  Association  during  the  Centenary  year  was  far  be- 
yond the  hopes  of  its  most  sanguine  friends,  while  the  social  and  spiritual 
good  accomplished  was  more  than  commensurate  with  the  pecuniary  results. 
The  series  of  glorious  meetings  held  by  its  officers  in  different  sections  of  the 
country,  during  the  Winter  of  1869  and  the  Spring  and  Summer  of  1870, 
culminated  in  the  immense  concourse  which  gathered  in  the  Universalist 
church  at  Gloucester,  on  the  evening  of  Wednesday,  Sept.  21,  1870. 

On  Wednesday,  the  20th  of  September,  1871,  the  Woman's  Centenary 
Aid  Association  met  in  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  with  the  General  Convention,  for 
the  purpose  of  giving  a  resume  of  its  work,  and  dissolving  its  organization. 
But  the  social  and  spiritual  good  resulting  from  its  two  years'  existence  had 
been  so  great,  and  the  pecuniary  results  so  promising,  it  was  decided  that  a 
force  so  important  should  not  be  lost  to  the  denomination.  Consequently  a 
new  organization  was  effected  under  the  name  of  the  Woman's  Centenary 
Association.  Two  sessions  were  held  in  the  vestry  of  the  Church  of  the 
Messiah;  one  at  3  p.  m.,  Wednesday,  when  the  President,  being  unable  to 
preside  from  sudden  illness,  called  Mrs.  H.  A.  Bingham,  of  Massachusetts,  to 
the  chair.     Miss  Amanda  Lane  wa>  elected  Secretary  pro  tern. 

The  record  of  the  Secretary,  a  ponderous  volume  of  elegantly  executed 
chirography  was  exhibited  to  the  members,  with  the  information  that  it  con- 
tained nearly  thirteen  thousand  names  with  the  amount  subscribed,  and  the 
post  office  address  of  each  member. 

On  the  question  of  the  adoption  of  a  constitution  to  suit  the  new  organ- 
ization a  committee  of  three  was  appointed,  consisting  of  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas, 
Mrs.  M.  A.  Adams  and  Mrs.  H.  A.  Bingham,  to  draft  a  constitution. 

The  constitution  presented  by  the  committee  was  one  prepared  by  Mrs. 
Soule.  It  was  submitted  to  the  meeting,  discussed  and  voted  upon  clause  by 
clause,  and  finally  unanimously  adopted.  It  was  the  same  document  that 
has  been  used  without  change  or  amendment  up  to  the  time  of  the  present 
writing,  a  period  of  ten  years. 

It  was  decided  by  vote  that  the  Association  should  become  the  patron 


WOMAN  S   CENTENARY    ASSOCIATION.  413 

of  the  spiritual  needs  of  the  church,  should  encourage  weak  Sunday- 
schools,  and  should  stimulate  missionary  effort  by  the  distribution  of  relig- 
ious literature.  It  was  agreed  that  all  one  dollar  annua]  memberships  should 
be  expended  in  the  work  of  the  year,  and  aU  sums  over  one  dollar  should  be 
invested  to  constitute  a  permanent  fund,  the  interest  only  to  be  used. 

A  gift  of  $25  constitutes  a  Life  Membership,  and  $100  a  Patron.  A 
department  was  organized  to  be  known  as  Specified  Gifts.  By  this  any 
member  or  non-member  may  present  money  or  gifts  of  any  kind  to  the  Exec- 
utive Board,  for  such  special  purpose  as  they  shall  name,  and  the  money  or 
gift  will  be  at  once  passed  over  to  the  individual,  institution  or  organization 
named  by  the  donor. 

The  largest  single  gift  to  the  Association  came  through  this  department 
during  this  year,  from  Gen.  James  Pierce,  of  Sharpsville,  Pa.,  who  gave  $10,- 
000,  in  the  name  of  his  wife,  to  endow  a  woman  professorship  in  Buchtel 
College. 

During  this  year,  also  in  May,  1873,  the  Executive  Board  decided  to 
enter  upon  the  publication  of  a  series  of  tracts,  believing  that  to  be  the  wisest 
use  to  which  the  money  in  the  treasury  could  be  applied.  Mrs.  M.  L. 
Thomas  was  appointed  a  Committee  of  Publication. 

The  officers  of  the  new  organization  were  the  same  as  in  the  old  except- 
ing where  resignations  made  it  necessary  to  fill  the  vacancies. 

Sept.  17,  1873,  the  General  Convention  met  in  Washington,  D.  C.  The 
Woman's  Centenary  Association  at  the  same  time  and  place,  convened  in 
the  small  hall  of  the  Masonic  Temple  of  that  city.  The  President,  Mrs.  C. 
A.  Soule,  was  in  the  chair.  The  first  report  of  the  Committee  on  Tracts  was 
read. 

The  fact  of  meeting  in  the  national  capital  suggested  the  possibility  of 
securing  an  act  of  incorporation  and  charter  under  a  law  of  Congress  that 
should  give  additional  prestige  to  the  national  character  of  the  Centenary 
Association,  and  with  the  advice  and  assistance  of  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  whose 
large  experience  in  other  national  organizations  enabled  him  to  accomplish 
tins,  a  charter  was  obtained,  Sept.  18,  1873,  under  a  special  act  of  Congress, 
approved  May  5,  1870,  in  winch  it  was  declared  that  "the  object  of  the  Asso- 
ciation is  to  promote  the  interests  of  the  Universalist  church." 


414  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

The  names  appended  to  the  document  as  incorporators  are  Caroline  A. 
Soule,  M.  Louise  Thomas,  F.  J.  M.  Whitcomb,  Augusta  Chapin,  Sarah  S. 
Grosh,  Susan  K.  Turner,  Georgiana  A.  Rowley,  Harriet  M.  Blanchard,  Ma- 
hnda  F.  S.  Kelsey,  the  four  last  named  being  residents  of  the  District  of 
Columbia  to  meet  the  requirements  of  the  law.  Subscribing  witnesses, 
A.  B.  Grosh,  Joshua  R.  Norton.  It  was  signed  in  the  house  of  Mr.  Grosh, 
and  afterward  regularly  recorded,  and  the  charter  handed  to  the  corporators. 

The  next  annual  meeting  of  the  Association  was  held  with  the  General 
Convention  at  the  Church  of  the  Divine  Paternity,  New  York  City,  at  9 
a.  m.,  Wednesday,  Sept.  16,  1874,  the  President,  Mrs.  C.  A.  Soule,  in  the 
chair. 

During  the  year  then  closed  some  criticisms  had  been  indulged  in  by 
certain  well-meaning  brethren,  regarding  the  independent  or  co-operative  ac- 
tion of  women  in  religious  and  church  affairs,  which  at  times  waxed  warm. 
The  subject  was  brought  before  the  convention  and  fully  discussed,  both 
sides  having  a  patient  hearing.  Mrs.  Soule  spoke  at  length  in  defense  of  the 
women  and  the  Association,  and  various  other  speakers  on  the  opposing  side 
were  heard.  Finally  it  was  voted  with  hearty  applause  that  the  Convention 
approved  of  the  work  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association,  and  declared 
it  to  be  auxiliary  to  that  of  the  Convention. 

These  resolutions  respecting  the  relations  of  the  Convention  and  the  As- 
sociation were  passed  to  the  Association  at  its  session  the  same  day,  and  were 
read  by  the  President. 

On  motion  a  committee  of  three  was  appointed  to  draft  resolutions  ex- 
pressing the  sense  of  the  Association  in  regard  to  said  resolutions.  Mrs.  M. 
L.  Thomas,  Mrs.  G.  W.  Quinby  and  Mrs.  D.  C.  Tomlinson  were  appointed 
said  committee,  and  reported  as  follows : 

" Resolved,  That  we  hail  with  deep  satisfaction  the  action  of  the  Conven- 
tion at  this  session  in  recognizing  the  loyal  attitude  of  the  Woman's  Centen- 
ary Association,  and  making  it  possible  for  us  to  co-operate  with  them  in  the 
work  of  the  church,  and  that  we  cordially  accept  the  hand  of  fellowship  thus 
extended.  And  still  further,  that  we  hereby  authorize  our  President  to  con- 
fer with  the  Board  of  Trustees,  and  arrange  with  them  a  plan  of  mutual 
work  for  the  year." 


WOMAN  S   CENTENARY    ASSOCIATION.  -A15 

This  resolution  was  unanimously  adopted.  This  amiable  settlement  of 
a  vexed  question  gave  a  new  impulse  to  the  work  of  the  Association  which 
lias  continued  without  interruption  up  to  the  present  time,  enabling  it  to  ex- 
tend its  missionary  operations  in  every  direction. 

Among  the  outposts  a  little  band  of  believers  in  Scotland  had  enlisted 
the  interest  of  the  Association,  and  had  received  regular  pecuniary  aid  from  it. 
Circumstances  transpired  which  made  it  necessary  for  some  one  to  visit  this 
station,  to  ascertain  with  certainty  its  condition  and  its  needs,  and  on  May 
8,  1875,  Mrs.  Soide  embarked  from  New  York  on  that  mission  of  observa- 
tion. She  spent  several  months  in  Scotland,  preaching  in  Dunfermline, 
Glasgow,  Larbert,  Dundee  and  other  places.  She  helped  to  organize  the 
"Scottish  Universalist  Convention."  She  also  assisted  at  the  dedication  of  a 
little  church  at  Stenhousemuir  in  the  following  August,  the  only  Universalist 
church  edifice  in  aU  Great  Britain. 

Three  years  later  Mrs.  Soule  sailed  again  for  Scotland  from  New  York, 
on  Saturday,  May  18,  1875,  in  the  Anchor  Line  steamship  "Anchoria,"  as 
the  accredited  evangelist  of  the  "Woman's  Centenary  Association  of  the  Uni- 
versalist church  of  America,  under  a  contract  to  remain  from  two  to  three 
years.  Large  numbers  of  friends  gathered  on  the  steamer  to  bid  her  farewell 
on  the  eve  of  her  departure,  among  them  the  Hon.  Thurlow  Weed,  the  friend 
of  her  early  childhood. 

On  her  arrival  in  Scotland  Mrs.  Soide  preached  for  awhile  in  Dunferm- 
line, and  then  went  to  Glasgow,  and  on  the  21st  of  March,  1879,  organized 
there  the  "St.  Paul's  Universalist  Church,"  with  a  church  constitution  and  a 
regularly  appointed  board  of  officers.  She  established  a  Sunday-school  and 
weekly  conference  meetings,  and  has  held  three  regular  sessions  for  worship 
each  Sunday.  A  church  library  has  been  instituted  to  which  members  and 
honest  inquirers  have  weekly  access,  and  tracts  and  books  are  distributed  at 
every  session  of  worship,  and  not  less  than  twenty  barrels  of  solidly  packed 
literature  have  been  scattered  over  the  United  Kingdom. 

Later  the  Scottish  Convention  conferred  the  rite  of  ordination  on  Mrs. 
Soule,  causing  her  to  be  the  first  woman  ever  ordained  to  the  Christian  min- 
istry in  Europe. 


41G  OUE   WOMAN   WORKERS. 

One  of  her  first  acts  after  her  ordination  was  to  observe  the  sacrament 
of  the  Lord's  Supper  in  her  church.  The  vessels  used  on  the  occasion  were 
the  gift  of  our  venerable  friend,  Rev.  C.  F.  LeFevre,  D.D.  Mrs.  Soide  is 
still  engaged  in  Glasgow. 

In  1875  the  Treasurer,  Mrs.  M.  A*.  Adams,  reported  that  the  Association 
had  raised  something  over  $100,000,  nearly  the  whole  of  which  has  been 
expended  in  the  work  of  the  church. 

The  Publication  Committee  reports  at  this  time  that  more  than  3,000,- 
000  pages  of  tracts  have  been  distributed,  besides  books,  papers  and  circulars 
explanatory  of  our  faith.  They  have  been  sent  to  every  laud  and  nation  on 
the  earth  where  our  ships  go,  to  all  the  islands  of  the  sea,  and  from  many  of 
the  most  distant  points  letters  of  thanks  have  come  for  the  new  light  shed 
upon  the  Gospel.  The  one  head  that  has  planned,  and  the  one  hand  that 
has  managed  this  department  of  labor  has  been  that  of  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas. 
Above  any  other  work  of  our  church,  it  deserves  the  pre-eminence  for  econ- 
omy, efficiency  and  success. 

The  following  ladies  have  served  as  officers  of   the  Association : 

President. — Rev.  Caroline  A.  Soule,  until  1880,  when  she  resigned,  and 
Mrs.  M.  Louise  Thomas  was  elected. 

Recording  Secretary. — -Mrs.  D.  C.  Tomlinson,  Miss  Amanda  Lane, 
Mrs.  A.  B.  Grosh,  Rev.  F.  E.  Kollock,  Mrs.  A.  M.  Hall. 

Cor.  Secretary. — Mrs.  F.  J.  M.  Whitcomb,  Miss  Ellen  E.  Miles,  Mrs. 
O.  E.  CantweU. 

N.  W.  Cor.  Secretary.— Mrs.  G.  B.  Marsh,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Hanson. 

Treasurer. — Mrs.  Martha  A.  Adams. 

Vtce  President. — Maine:  Mrs.  J.  A.  Stockwell,  Miss  Eleanor  Law- 
rence, Mrs.  G.  W.  Case,  Mrs.  C.  A.  Quinby;  New  Hampshire:  Mrs.  Annie 
Glover,  Mrs.  S.  H.  McCollester,  Mrs.  E.  J.  Jacquette,  Mrs.  G.  L.  Dernarest, 
Mrs.  Loretta  Foster;  Vermont:  Mrs.  J.  H.  Farnsworth,  Mrs.  M.  H.  Harris, 
Rev.  Annette  J.  Shaw;  Massachusetts:  Mrs.  H.  A.  Bingham,  Miss  Amanda 
Lane,  Mrs.  Helen  A.  Potter,  Mrs.  Mary  L.  Draper;  Connecticut:  Mrs.  C.  A. 
Skinner,  Mrs.  M.  C.  Webster,  Mrs.  O.  P.  Amies,  Mrs.  Amy  A.  Ellis;  Rhode 
Island:  Mrs.  L.  W.  Ballou,  Mrs  S.  C.  Carpenter,  Mrs.  C.  W.  Holbrook,  Mrs. 
C.  M.  Jackson;  New  York:   Mrs.  L.  W.  Brown,  Mrs.  S.  C.   Hoffman,  Mrs. 


WOMAN  S    CENTENARY    ASSOCIATION.  417 

Lucy  G.  Bucklin;  New  Jersey:  Mrs.  C.  M.  Norton,  Mrs.  Anna  E.  Hitch- 
cock; Delaware:  Mrs.  J.  T.  Goodrich;  Pennsylvania:  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas, 
Mrs.  John  Mason,  Jr.;  Maryland:  Mrs.  L.  H.  Mason,  Mrs.  M.  Kemp,  Mrs. 
R.  A.  Tichmore;  Virginia:  Mrs.  S.  J.  Wardwell;  West  Virginia :  Mrs.  Wm. 
A.  Jones,  Mrs.  Abhie  W.  Lott;  District  of  Columbia:  Mrs.  A.  B.  Grosh, 
Miss  C.  Gove,  Mrs.  A.  Kelsey,  Mrs.  Emily  L.  Sherwood:  North  Carolina- 
Mrs.  Hope  Bain,  Mrs.  Julia  E.  Outlaw;  South  Carolina,  Mis.  D.  B.  Clayton; 
Georgia:  Mrs.  L.  F.  W.  Andrews;  Alabama:  Mrs.  J.  C.  Burruss;  Florida: 
Miss  H.  H.  Fay,  Miss  Fanny  Ransom;  Kentucky:  Miss  Jennie  Gifford,  Mrs. 
Waters,  Mrs.  J.  W.  Herby;  Ohio:  Mrs.  O.  E.  Cantwell,  Mrs.  D.  C.  Tornlin- 
son,  Mrs.  Helen  E.  Lough;  Michigan:  Mrs.  H.  L.  Hayward,  Rev.  F.  W. 
Gillette,  Mrs.  S.  A.  Peterman,  Miss  Mary  A.  Johnson,  Mrs.  E.  L.  Rexfoid; 
Indiana:  Mrs.  A.  W.  Bruce,  Mrs.  M.  Crosley,  Mrs.  C.  L.  Bassett;  Illinois: 
Mrs.  G.  B.  Marsh,  Mrs.  W.  H.  Ryder,  Mrs.  S.  Brookins,  Mrs.  M.  C.  Swan; 
Missouri:  Mrs.  Wm.  Allen,  Mrs.  S.  G.  Hull;  Mississippi:  Mrs.  T.  H.  Rush; 
Arkansas:  Mrs.  Eli  Thornberg;  Louisiana:  Mrs.  Geo.  H.  Deere,  Mrs.  S.  J. 
McLean,  Mrs.  A.  M.  Newton;  Texas:  Mrs.  L.  A.  Cook,  Mrs.  Hawkins 
Boone,  Mrs.  James  Billings;  Wisconsin:  Rev.  E.  T.  Wilkes,  Miss  Ruth 
Graham,  Mrs.  A.  C.  Fish,  Mrs.  M.  G.  Todd,  Mrs.  E.  R.  Coleman;  Iowa: 
Mrs.  W.  R.  Chamberlain,  Mrs.  M.  P.  Kingman,  Mrs.  W.  P.  Payne,  Mrs.  A. 
K.  Powers,  Rev.  F.  W.  Gillette;  Minnesota:  Mrs.  Paris  Gibson,  Mrs.  Dr. 
Goodwin,  Mrs.  R.  Blakely,  Mrs.  H.  P.  Morison,  Mrs.  F.  R.  E.  Cornell; 
Kansas:  Mrs.  L.  Denman,  Mrs.  J.  H.  Ballon,  Rev.  S.  M.  Barnes;  Colorado: 
Mrs.  G.  Collins,  Rev.  E.  T.  Wilkes,  Mrs.  M.  E.  Haywood;  Nebraska:  Mrs. 
J.  D.  Monell,  Mrs.  S.  R.  Fairbanks,  Rev.  M.  J.  DeLong;  Utah  Territory: 
Mrs.  Addie  Bascom;  California:  Mrs.  J.  Hale,  Mrs.  Alpheus  Bull,  Mrs.  W. 
H.  Sears;  Oregon:  Mrs.  A.  Morrison;  Washington  Territory:  Rev.  S.  A. 
McAllister;  Wyoming  Territory:  J.  W.  Fisher,  Mrs.  G.  A.  Seabright :  Cana- 
da: Mrs.  E.  G.  Shaw;  Scotland:  Mrs.  J.  U.  Mitchell,  Mrs.  A.  Reid:  Eng- 
land: Mrs.  Pollard,  Mrs.  R.  Spear.  In  nearly  all  the  States  the  women  of 
our  church  are  united  in  working  through  the  Woman's  Centenary  Associa- 
tion. 

Rev.  J.  G.  Adams,  D.D.,  says  in  a  letter  to  me: 

"Of  the  woman  who  manifested  her  devotion  to  Christ  in  the  use  of  the 


418  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

precious  ointment,  the  holy  Teacher  said,  'Verily  I  say  unto  you,  whereso- 
ever this  Gospel  shall  he  preached  in  the  whole  world,  there  shall  also  that 
this  woman  hath  done  he  told  for  a  memorial  of  her.'  The  doings  of  our 
faithful  women  for  the  huilding  up  and  honoring  of  the  Master's  cause, 
however  humble  these  may  be,  and  scrupulously  questioned  by  others,  will 
stand  as  a  glorious  memorial  of  them  in  the  days  and  years  to  come,  when 
the  heavenly  principles  of  our  Gospel  shall  be  the  life  of  a  Christian  civiliza- 
tion, and  the  blessing  of  a  regenerated  race." 

Harriet  Putnam  Morison,  one  of  the  Minnesota  Vice  Presidents,  was  a 
descendant  of  the  famous  Israel  Putnam,  and  was  a  native  of  Maine,  in 
which  State  she  was  married,  in  Livermore,  in  1840,  to  Hon.  D.  Morison 
now  of  Minneapolis,  Minn.  She  died  in  Vienna,  Austria,  in  the  Autumn  of 
1880,  while  on  a  European  journey.  She  was  a  devoted  friend  of  the 
Woman's  Centenary  Association,  and  of  all  the  interests  of  our  church.  She 
possessed  rare  womanly  qualities,  and  had  won  universal  esteem. 


THE    UNIVEKSALIST     WOMEN'S    MISSION- 
AEY  ASSOCIATION    OF   WISCONSIN. 

This  Association  was  organized  at  Whitewater,  June  7,  1879.  The  fol- 
lowing officers  were  elected:  Mrs.  H.  B.  Lafhn,  President;  Mrs.  J.  Reymer, 
Secretary;  Mrs.  M.  G.  Todd,  Treasurer.  Mrs.  Lafhn  says,  "The  cause  of 
the  organization  of  our  Association  was  that  a  spirit  of  determination  en- 
tered the  hearts  of  a  few  to  do  all  in  their  power  to  bring  about  the  much- 
needed  and  long-hoped-for  result — a  State  Missionary.  Our  object  was  fully 
understood  to  be  the  raising  of  funds  to  assist  the  Missionary  Committee  in 
securing  such  a  laborer.  We  banded  ourselves  as  helpers,  not  as  leaders, 
and  the  clergy  have  our  thanks  for  the  kindly  interest  they  have  shown  in 
the  prosperity  of  our  Association." 

At  the  first  annual  meeting  the  following  officers  were  chosen :  Mrs.  H. 


ILLINOIS   WOMEN'S    ASSOCIATION.  419 

B.  Laflin,  President;  Mrs.  M.  Frazier,  Secretary;  Mrs.  M.  G.  Todd,  Treas- 
urer. The  second  annual  meeting  was  held  at  Columbus,  June  3,  1881. 
The  report  showed  progress.  The  officers  chosen  at  this  meeting  were  Mrs. 
Laflin,  President;  Mrs.  H.  Slade,  Secretary;  Mrs.  M.  G.  Todd,  Treasurer. 
Executive  Committee,  Mrs.  H.  J.  Lewis,  Mrs.  Wm.  Eogers,  Miss  Clara  Fratt. 

I  take  great  pleasure  in  saying  that  all  of  the  officers  of  the  Association 
have  manifested  remarkable  aptitude  for  their  duties.  The  interest  of  the 
President  is  intense  for  our  church.  She  was  educated  an  orthodox,  but, 
with  her  husband,  thought  herself  into  the  light  of  Universalism  before  they 
had  ever  heard  a  sermon  preached  setting  forth  its  beauties.  They  did  not 
know  what  Universahsm  was,  nor  what  their  belief  would  be  called,  until 
fifteen  years  ago,  when  they  heard  their  first  serrnon,  and  it  illumined  the 
whole  world  to  them. 

Mrs.  Laflin  has  corresponded  for  a  number  of  our  papers,  and  for  the 
"Ladies'  Repository."  She  is  a  native  of  Vermont,  and  possesses  strong 
traits  of  character. 

Mrs.  H.  J.  Lewis,  of  Neenah,  a  most  devoted  worker  in  our  church,  and 
Mrs.  Charles  Clark,  wife  of  the  "paper  king"  of  the  State,  and  Mrs.  Laflin 
are  life  members  of  the  Association. 


ILLINOIS    WOMEN'S    ASSOCIATION. 

This  society  was  organized  in  Mendota,  Dec.  2,  18G8,  to  consist  of 
delegates  from  Aid  Societies  connected  with  churches  and  societies — a  dele- 
gate for  every  five  members — and  of  the  presidents  of  Aid  Societies,  and  the 
officers  of  the  Association,  for  the  purpose  of  raising  funds  to  foster  the  in- 
terests of  the  denomination,  especially  in  educational  and  missionary  matters. 

The  first  effort  was  to  build  a  large  boarding  hall,  connected  with  Lom- 
bard University,  but  the  great  Centenary  year  turned  all  hearts  to  the  Mur- 
ray Fund,  and  the  work  was  deferred.  A  small  building  was  given  by  the 
Northwestern  Conference,  which  after  three  years  was  abandoned. 


420  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

In  1874  the  State  Convention  recognized  the  Association  as  auxiliary, 
and  at  its  request  it  received  the  supervision  of  the  missionary  work,  and 
managed  it  for  two  years.  Eevs.  Sophie  Gibh  and  S.  M.  Perkins,  and  Mrs. 
J.  Gorton  were  State  Missionaries,  and  wrought  a  good  work,  but  in  1870  the 
missionary  work  was  relinquished,  and  the  missionary  boxes  were  confided 
to  the  Association,  Mrs.  H.  B.  Manford,  Superintendent.  In  1881  the  mis- 
sionary boxes  were  surrendered.  The  membership  receipts  are  given  to 
Lombard  University.  From  its  organization  to  the  present  time  about  nine 
thousand  dollars  have  passed  through  the  treasury. 

The  presidents  have  been  Mesdames  M.  A.  Livermore,  J.  V.  N.  Stand- 
ish,  G.  B.  Marsh  and  H.  B.  Manford. 


THE   MICHIGAN   WOMEN'S   ASSOCIATION 

Was  organized  in  1880.  The  officers  are,  President,  Mrs.  S.  M.  Cook; 
Vice  President,  Mrs.  S.  A.  Peterman,  M.  D. ;  Secretary,  Mrs.  E.  L.  West- 
cott;  Treasurer,  Mrs.  Carrie  Williams.  The  ladies  have  scarcely  commenced 
their  work.  In  my  next  book  I  expect  to  give  a  glowing  account  of  what 
they  have  accomplished. 


INDIANA   WOMEN'S   ASSOCIATION. 

This  young  society  was  organized  in  Dublin,  Sept.  2,  1871).  Mrs.  E.  N. 
John,  President;  Rev.  M.  T.  Clark,  Secretary;  Mrs.  Joseph  Bulla,  Treasurer. 
In  1880  Mrs.  Gr.  S.  Newcomb  was  elected  President;  Mrs.  N.  Wilson,  Vice 
President;  Mrs.  T.  Hoffman,  Treasurer.     In  1881  the  same  President  and 


ST.    MARY    PROFESSORSHIP.  ll>] 

Secretary,  and  Miss  Belle  Itockingfield,  Treasurer,  and  Mesdames  S.  F.  John 
and  E.  Davis,  Vice  Presidents.  The  society  is  a  vigorous  one,  promising  to 
be  very  efficient. 


THE  ST.  MAEY  PROFESSORSHIP, 
CANTON,  N.  Y. 

At  the  Commencement  of  St.  Lawrence  University,  Canton,  N.  Y.,  in 
1872,  Mrs.  C.  A.  Soule  was  present  and  came  to  realize  its  pressing  needs, 
especially  those  pertaining  to  the  education  of  the  lady  students  of  the  col- 
lege..    She  learned  that  a  Woman  Professorship  was  the  greatest  need. 

At  a  meeting  of  the  Executive  Committee  held  July  3,  1872,  Mrs.  Soule 
was  requested  to  render  assistance  in  securing  a  fund  to  pay  the  salary  of  a 
Woman  Professor  in  the  college. 

At  the  annual  session  of  the  New  York  Convention  of  Universalists 
held  at  Richrield  Springs,  August  29,  1872,  the  Woman's  Centenary  Asso- 
ciation took  hold  of  the  subject  in  earnest.  Under  the  lead  of  Mrs.  Soide, 
the  project  was  fairly  inaugurated.  Mrs.  S.  gave  one  of  her  characteristic 
addresses,  which  indicated  that  her  heart  was  in  the  work.  The  movement 
was  made  to  secure  one  hundred  names  of  women  in  the  State,  who  should 
pledge  themselves  to  the  Trustees  of  St.  Lawrence  University  to  pay  the 
salary  of  a  Woman  Professor  for  five  years,  each  woman  paying  ten  dollars 
annually.  Many  names  were  obtained  at  the  convention,  and  afterwards  the 
balance  was  nearly,  if  not  quite,  made  up  in  different  sections  of  the  State. 
Mrs.  Soule  also  proposed  a  name  for  the  new  professorship.  It  should  bs 
called  "St.  Mary  Professorship." 

Mrs.  Stockwell,  of  Bangor,  Me.,  Mrs.  S.  M.  Perkins,  of  Cooperstown  N. 
Y.,  and  Mrs.  Eliza  Bailey,  of  Rochester,  N.  Y.,  also  made  brief  addresses  in 
behalf  of  the  enterprise.  The  whole  matter  was  accomplished  in  three- 
fourths  of  an  hour,  and  two  thousand  dollars  pledged  during  that  time. 

At  the  opening  of    the  college  term  in   Angus;,    \xl-,   Miss    Lucy  G. 


422  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

French,  daughter  of  Eev.  W.  R.  French,  of  Maine,  a  graduate  of  7/estbrook 
Seminary,  who  had  been  appointed  by  President  A.  G.  Gaines  to  this  profes- 
sorship, took  her  place  in  the  college  and  remained  three  years,  performing 
her  duties  faithfully  and  satisfactorily.  In  August,  1876,  Miss  Clara  Weaver, 
daughter  of  Rev.  Dr.  G.  S.  Weaver,  now  of  Canton,  N.  Y.,  was  appointed 
her  successor.  She  is  a  graduate  of  the  college,  and  a  finished  classical 
scholar. 

The  lady  students  of  the  college  have  averaged  about  one -third  of  the 
whole  number,  while  since  1861  twelve  ladies  have  been  educated  for  the 
ministry  in  the  Theological  School. 


THE    ELIZABETH    BUCHTEL    AND    CHLOE 
PIEECE    PKOFESSOESHIPS. 

In  the  Spring  of  1873  Hon.  John  R.  Buchtel  proposed  to  endow  one 
woman  professorship  to  be  called  the  Elizabeth  Buchtel  Professorship,  if  the 
women  of  Ohio  and  Western  Pennsylvania  would  endow  another.  This  ef- 
fort was  seconded.  After  some  consultation  it  was  thought  best  to  have  the 
money  raised  under  the  auspices  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association. 
Mrs.  Soule  gave  herself  personally  to  the  work  of  raising  subscriptions.  She 
came  and  attended  the  State  Convention  which  was  appointed  at  Akron,  for 
the  express  purpose  of  agitating  the  subject.  There  w.is  a  very  large  gather- 
ing. Great  enthusiasm  prevailed.  Subscription  cards  were  distributed  in 
the  audience,  and  a  large  amount  for  the  endowment  of  a  woman  professor- 
ship raised  then  and  there.  After  the  meeting  Mrs.  Soule  visited  Mrs.  Chloe 
Pierce,  of  Sharpsville,  Pa.,  who  had  become  interested  in  the  idea  of  having 
women  associated  in  the  faculty  of  the  college.  After  conversing  with  her 
noble  husband  on  the  subject,  largely  through  Mrs.  Smile's  influence,  they 
decided  to  give  $10,000  to  this  grand  object.  Mrs.  Soule  labored  several 
months  in  the  good  causo,  holding  meetings  in  its  interest,  assisted  by  our 


THE   LADIES'    REPOSITORY.  423 

glergyraen,  by  Mrs.  J.  G.  Adams  and  by  Mrs.  E.  C.  Tomlinson.  Several 
thousand  dollars  were  subscribed,  but  there  were  still  about  three  thousand 
dollars  wanting  when  the  State  Convention  met  at  Cleveland  in  June,  1874. 
A  strong  appeal  was  offered  and  a  vigorous  effort  made  to  secure  the  remain- 
ing funds  aeeess  iry  to  complete  the  endowment,  which  was  successful.  The 
s  1 0,000  was  secured,  and  the  professorship  named  the  "Chloe  Pierce  Pro- 
fessorship," in  honor  of  the  generous  donor. 

I  quote  from  the  "Ladies'  Repository,*'  July,  1873,  the  following: 
"Buchtel  College  owes  its  existence  not  only  to  the  grand  man  whose 
name  it  bears,  but  to  his  wife,  who  has  seconded  all  his  labors  and,  if  possi- 
ble, doubled  all  his  sacrifices  in  its  behalf." 


THE    LADIES'    REPOSITOKY. 

The  "Ladies'  Repository"  was  established  in  1832,  by  an  association  of 
clergymen,  and  edited  by  Rev.  Daniel  D.  Smith,  and  was  called  "The  Uni- 
versalist."  It  was  published  simultaneously  in  Boston  and  Lowell,  Mass. 
At  the  end  of  its  first  year  it  was  transferred  to  S.  and  S.  F.  Streeter,  and  at 
the  close  of  the  second  volume  it  became  the  property  of  Rev.  D.  D.  Smith, 
and  adopted  the  additional  name  of  "Ladies'  Repository."  In  January, 
1830,  it  was  conveyed  to  Abel  Tompkins,  and  Rev.  A.  A.  Folsom  became 
editor,  but  in  August  of  that  year,  Rev.  Henry  Bacon  succeeded  Mr.  Folsom. 
He  remained  editor,  and  Mr.  Tompkins  publisher,  until  1856,  a  period  of 
twenty  years.  During  those  twenty  years  more  of  the  women  of  our  church 
achieved  literary  distinction,  and  became  identified  with  its  history,  than 
during  any  succeeding  or  preceding  period  of  the  same  length,  and  for  his* 
great  influence  in  encouraging  and  fostering  the  literary  efforts  of  the  best 
among  our  women  writers,  the  name  of  Abel  Tompkins  deserves  grateful 
recognition,  and  must  always  occupy  honorable  rank.  After  more  than 
forty  years  of  existence  this  publication  was  discontinued. 


WOMAN     MINISTERS. 


i~The  writer  of  this  volume  regrets  being  coinpelled  to  abridge  her 
sketches  of  the  Woman  Ministers  in  the  Universalist  Ministry.  She  had 
written  at  far  greater  length  than  the  remaining  pages  exhibit,  when  the 
part  of  the  book  already  electrotyped  had  exceeded  the  number  to  which  she 
had  limited  herself,  and  she  was  reluctantly  compelled  to  reduce  nearly  all 
the  biographical  sketches  that  follow,  and  particularly  the  more  prominent 
ones.  She  regrets  being  compeUed  to  omit  selections  from  the  writings  of  sev- 
eral, which  she  had  carefully  made.] 

The  Universalist  denomination  is  solving  the  problem  of  a  Woman  Min- 
istry. For  several  years  an  increasing  number  of  women  have  exercised 
their  gifts,  either  as  licentiates  or  clergy,  until  now  there  are  some  thirty  or- 
dained and  licensed  preachers  of  our  faith. 

The  first  Universalist  woman  who  ever  attempted  to  brave  public  opinion 
by  standing  in  a  pulpit  as  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel,  was 

MAEIA     COOK, 

Who  preached  before  the  Western  Association,  in  Bainbridge,  N.  Y.,  in 
June,  1811.  She  was  not  only  considered  a  very  presumptuous  woman,  but 
her  desire  to  occupy  such  an  attitude  was  considered  as  a  proof  that  her 
mind  had  lost  its  balance.  All  we  know  of  her  is  contained  in  "Stephen  R. 
Smith's  Historical  Sketches,"  Vol.  1,  pages  31  and  32,  published  in  Buffalo, 
in  1843.     Mr.  Smith  says: 

"At  the  same  session  of  the  Association,  the  council  was  honored  with 
the  attendance  of — and  the  congregation  edified  by  a  discours2  from — a  fe- 


MARIA   COOK.  425 

male  preacher.  She  too,  was  a  Universalist.  Miss  Maria  Cook  was  at  the 
time  some  thirty-five  years  of  age,  of  genteel  and  commanding  appearance, 
well  educated,  and  certainly  a  very  good  speaker.  From  the  character  of 
her  discourses,  it  would  appear  that  Universalism  as  a  system  was  unknown 
to  her;  and  it  was  rather  the  result  of  her  feelings,  than  of  an  extensive  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Scriptures,  that  she  had  made  it  the  creed  of  her  adoption. 
Difficult  as  many  found  it,  to  reconcile  the  ministry  of  Miss  Cook  with  their 
ideas  of  duty  and  propriety,  they  still  accorded  her  their  sympathy  and  their 
hospitality.  She  was  a  Universalist  and  a  preacher  of  that  doctrine.  None 
doubted  the  purity  of  her  motives,  or  the  sincerity  of  her  heart,  and  satisfied 
that  she  could  do  no  hurt,  they  yielded  her  the  right  of  choosing  this  manner  of 
doing  good.  And  for  a  time — while  the  double  charm  of  novelty  and  singularity 
furnished  it  attractions — multitudes  crowded  to  hear  her  ministrations;  but 
these  influences  coidd  not  and  they  did  not  last  long,  and  she  was  permitted 
and  encouraged  to  discontinue  her  public  labors,  and  to  seek  a  more  con- 
genial sphere  under  the  protection  of  a  hospitable  private  family.  Miss 
Cook's  connections  were  numerous  and  respectable,  and  were  by  her  repre- 
sented as  inveterately  opposed  to  Universalism.  This  was  probably  true,  but 
there  is  much  reason  to  believe  that  their  opposition  to  her  grew  out  of  a  few 
other  considerations.  They  were  extremely  averse  to  her  assumption  of  the 
ministerial  character,  and  probably  not  without  grounds  of  apprehension  that 
so  extraordinary  an  undertaking  was  an  evidence  of  mental  alienation." 

One  who  has  heard  one  or  more  of  the  several  brilliant  women  who  have 
occupied  our  pulpits,  and  who  have  wrought  a  grand  work,  such  as  Olympia 
Brown,  Fidelia  Gillette,  Phoebe  Hanaford  or  Augusta  Chapin,  will  smile  at 
the  grave  fears  of  the  fathers  who  suspected  a  "gentle,"  "commanding," 
"  well  educated "  woman,  "  a  good  speaker,  of  pure  motives  and  sincere 
heart,"  to  whom  multitudes  crowded,  of  "  mental  alienation,"  because  she 
felt  called  to  proclaim  a  Gospel  that  more  than  any  other  form  of  religious 
faith,  meets  the  needs  of  the  heart  of  woman.  If  the  fears  of  the  fathers 
that  Miss  Cook's  attempt  to  preach  the  Gospel  was  evidence  of  mental  un- 
soundness were  well  founded,  it  would  seem  to  follow  that  her  successors  who 
attempt  to  imitate  her  example  an'  "mentally  alienated,"  but  if  so,  it  will  be 
conceded  that  there  is  no  little  "method  in  their  madness." 

28 


426  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


LYDIA    A.    JENKINS, 

Who  was  one  of  our  earliest  preachers  or  evangelists,  laid  no  claim  to 
the  title  "Rev.,"  as  she  was  never  ordained.  She  was  a  woman  of  intellect 
and  taste  and  of  extensive  scientific  and  literary  culture.  She  embraced  in 
her  topics  that  of  agriculture,  practical  and  scientific.  She  possessed  sur- 
passingly fine  conversational  powers.  When  speaking  of  God's  eternal  good- 
ness and  love,  her  words  never  failed  to  inspire  the  hearts  and  hands  of  our 
people  to  greater  exertions  for  the  growth  of  the  faith. 

An  early  injury  to  the  spine  made  her  a  hfe-long  invalid,  and  impaired 
her  strength  for  public  labor.  She  was  a  practising  physician  at  the  time  of 
her  death,  and  with  her  husband  was  conducting  the  Hygienic  Institute  at 
Binghamton,  N.  Y. 


CHAELOTTE    POETEK 

Was  the  wife  of  Rev.  L.  F.  Porter.  Her  independence  and  desire  to  do 
her  share  of  life's  labor  is  charmingly  described  in  Mrs.  Hanaford's  "Women 
of  the  Century,"  by  Mrs.  M.  L.  Thomas.     I  take  pleasure  in  quoting: 

"She  was  never  regularly  ordained  (by  man) ;  but  she  has  preached  with 
great  power  and  acceptance  for  many  years  in  the  northeastern  part  of  the 
State. 

"The  services  of  Mrs.  Porter  were  desired  at  a  funeral  a  few  miles  away 
and  Brother  Bailey  went  to  her  house  to  carry  the  message.  She  was  not  at 
home,  and  he  was  told  that  to  find  her  he  would  have  to  go  out  into  the  sugar- 
camp,  where  she  was  engaged  in  gathering  the  maple  sap,  and  making  it 
into  sugar.  It  was  night  then,  but  his  errand  admitted  no  delay.  So  he 
drove  as  far  as  he  could  follow  the  wagon-path;  then,  as  it  was  quite  dark, 


OLYMPIA     BROWN    WILLIS.  427 

lie  hitched  his  horse  to  a  tree,  and  walked  on  as  hest  he  could  by  the  star- 
light. Presently  he  heard,  on  the  still,  frosty  air,  a  woman's  voice,  singing 
a  hymn  of  praise  to  God,  and  very  soon  the  camp-fire  came  in  sight.  Stand 
ing  still,  he  says  he  watched  the  scene  for  some  minutes,  listening  to  the 
hymn  in  this  strange  and  lonely  place,  the  snow  covering  the  ground,  the 
stars  over  head,  the  tire  burning,  and  Mrs.  Porter  singing  as  she  passed  from 
place  to  place,  in  the  work  in  which  she  was  engaged,  with  no  human  being 
near.  She  is  a  strong,  good  woman,  often  supplies  her  husband's  pulpit, 
and  is  liked  quite  as  well  as  he,  and  he  is  above  the  average  in  point  of 
eloquence." 

Mrs.  Porter  has  preached  most  of  the  time  for  a  number  of  years,  and 
has  accomplished  a  great  amount  of  good.  She  says,  "I  have  never  asked 
for  ordination,  but  I  have  received  letters  of  license  from  the  New  York  Con- 
vention and  from  the  one  where  I  am  now  living,  Pennsylvania.  Mrs. 
Porter's  home  is  at  present  in  Susquehanna. 


OLYMPIA    BKOWN    WILLIS. 

The  right  of  any  woman  to  engage  in  any  work  to  which  she  feels  called, 
no  one  should  question,  but  the  compiler  of  these  pages  is  not  prepared  to 
prophesy  whether,  in  the  final  result,  women  equally  with  men  will  demon- 
strate their  fitness  for  the  ministry.  The  object  of  this  book  is  not  to  advo- 
cate or  oppose  a  Woman  Ministry,  but  to  chronicle  what  women  have  done, 
and  to  do  the  fullest  justice  to  their  work,  to  "naught  extenuate  nor  set  aught 
down  in  malice." 

In  different  ages  of  the  Christian  Church  there  have  been  attempts  on 
the  part  of  women  to  preach  the  gospel.  Occasionally,  one  like  Dinah  Morris, 
in  "Adam  Bede,"  has  exhibited  that  rare  capacity  of  mind  and  aptitude  of 
nature  that  amount  to  genius  for  this  great  calling.  Such  cases,  however, 
were  exceptional.  But  the  sacred  rite  of  ordination  had  rarely  been  con- 
ferred until  the  Universalist  Church  broke  the  continuity  of  the  old  succes- 


428  OUB   WOMAN   "WORKERS. 

sion  by  recognizing  a  Woman  Ministry.  The  first  to  be  ordained  was  Olym- 
pia  Brown.     She  "was  the  first  that  ever  burst  into  that  unknown  sea." 

When  Olympia  Brown  began  her  work,  it  required  fortitude,  persistence 
and  conviction  of  duty  of  the  highest  kind  to  persevere.  Prejudice  was  en- 
countered which  now  can  scarcely  be  imagined.  Opposition  was  met  that  is 
now  almost  unknown.  Whatever  may  be  the  issue,  Olympia  Brown  must  be 
recorded  as  the  "Arnold  Van  Winkelried"  of  the  pulpit,  who  first  cried  to  the 
ranks  of  the  masculine  clergy,  "Make  way  for  Liberty,"  and  began  a  career 
that  has  been  distinguished  by  ability  and  success.  She  was  born  in  Prairie 
Bonde,  Michigan.  She  is  of  small  stature,  dark  brown  hair,  with  com- 
plexion corresponding ;  large  dark  brown  eyes,  seemingly  always  on  the  alert 
to  learn  what  is  going  on  in  the  world,  active  in  temperament,  and  possessed 
of  an  unusual  amount  of  natural  vigor.  She  takes  a  good  deal  of  pride  in 
referring  to  her  abounding  health,  whenever  she  hears  a  reverend  gentleman 
complain  of  lassitude  or  indisposition.  She  attended  school  in  her  native 
place  until  she  learned  every  thing  the  school  at  that  time  could  give  to 
so  active  a  brain.  At  fifteen  she  began  to  teach  in  the  district  school,  and 
continued  so  to  do  until  the  age  of  eighteen,  when  she  went  to  South  Had- 
ley,  Mass.,  and  attended  the  Mount  Holyoke  Seminary.  Before  the  year  was 
through,  she  became  interested  in  theology  and  began  more  fully  to  realize 
the  broader  and  better  views  of  God's  character,  and  was  willing  to  make 
any  sacrifice  and  perform  any  labor  in  her  power  to  make  her  friends  see 
him  as  she  saw  him,  and  bring  them  into  nearer  relations  with  him  and  with 
one  another.  But  before  taking  so  great  a  responsibility  upon  herself,  she 
must  prepare  for  it,  so  after  her  return  from  Mount  Holyoke  she  went  to 
Yellow  Springs,  Ohio,  and  commenced  her  college  course  at  Antioch,  then 
under  the  presidency  of  Horace  Mann. 

She  graduated  in  18G0,  at  which  time  she  received  the  degree  of  A.  B., 
and  immediately  her  heart  and  brain  turned  toward  theology.  "Where  shall 
I  go,"  was  the  queston,  "to  Meadville  or  Canton?"  She  applied  to  Meadville, 
but  in  that  theological  school  it  was  too  great  an  innovation  to  admit  a  woman. 
She  next  wrote  to  Rev.  Dr.  Ebenezer  Fisher,  President  of  Canton,  N.  Y., 
Theological  School,  and  received  a  most  cordial  reply.  His  frank  and  en- 
couraging letter,  telling  her  that  she  would  be  received  at  Canton  and  treated 


OLYMPIA   BROWN    WILLIS.  429 

in  every  respect  like  any  other  student,  made  her  forget  the  misfortune  of  be- 
ing a  woman,  for  a  season  at  Least,  until  she  had  eclipsed  some  of  the  mascu- 
line students  in  her  studies.  Gratefully  does  she  remember  those  who  treat- 
ed her  with  consideration  for  being  a  woman,  and  with  pity  she  remembers 
those  who  tried  to  hinder  her  progress. 

Dr.  Fisher  was  opposed  to  a  Woman  Ministry,  but  did  not  feel  willing  to 
allow  his  own  views  to  hinder  a  woman  from  entering  the  profession  if  she 
felt  a  call  to  it.  He  wrote,  "No  woman  has  ever  been  admitted  to  this  col- 
lege, and  personally  I  do  not  think  women  are  called  to  the  ministry,  but 
that  I  shall  leave  with  the  great  Head  of  the  church."  He  closed  his  kind 
letter  by  adding,  "I  shall  render  you  every  aid  in  my  power,"  and  she  en- 
tered the  theological  school  in  the  Autumn  of  1861,  and  graduated  in  the 
Spring  of  1868. 

Immediately  after  her  graduation,  she  was  ordained  at  Malone,  N.  Y. 
Dr.  Fisher  preached  the  sermon.  Rev.  J.  S.  Lee,  D.D.,  and  Rev.  J.  T.  Good- 
rich assisted  in  the  ceremony. 

Very  soon  after  leaving  Canton  she  supplied  the  pulpit  in  Marshfield,  Vt. 
Her  first  settlement  was  at  Weymouth,  Mass.  She  supplied  until  April  1st, 
after  which  she  was  regularly  engaged  as  pastor,  in  which  position  she  re- 
mained until  October,  1869.  She  was  installed  at  Weymouth,  July  8,  1864. 
Rev.  Sylvanus  Cobb,  D.D.,  preached  the  sermon,  and  Rev.  George  H.  Emer- 
son, D.D.,  took  part  in  the  services.  One  of  the  most  earnest  and  devoted 
members  of  the  Weymouth  Church,  writes  me,  "When  Rev.  Miss  Brown 
came  among  us,  the  society  was  in  a  poor  and  unhealthy  condition ;  but  as 
soon  as  possible  she  went  to  work,  and  she  was  an  earnest  worker,  totally 
unselfish,  doing  everything  in  her  power  for  the  advancement  and  best  in- 
terests of  the  society.  When  at  the  end  of  more  than  five  years'  faithful 
labor  Miss  Brown  sent  in  her  resignation,  it  was  not  received  until  a  consul- 
tation had  been  held  with  her,  and  they  were  assured  that  she  felt  it  her  duty 
to  go,  and  then,  reluctantly." 

In  October,  1869,  she  became  pastor  in  Bridgeport,  Conn.  I  wrote  to  a 
member  of  the  parish,  who  replied,  "No  woman  can  know  her  well  without 
respecting  her  as  a  Christian  woman  and  preacher  of  the  Gospel  of  good 
tidings.     I  listened  to  her  nearly  every  Sunday,  and  felt  that  as  a  preacher 


430  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

she  was  earnest,  faithful  and  true  to  the  great  Master's  work.  Her  heart 
was  ever  open  to  those  with  whom  she  came  in  contact.  I  have  never  seen 
the  person  who  would  willingly  work  harder  and  sacrifice  more  for  our  bless- 
ed faith." 

In  18G7  she  delivered  the  address  to  the  Alumni  in  Antioch,  on  "Diver- 
sity of  Gifts."  After  her  address,  the  degree  of  A.  M.  was  conferred.  Her 
graduating  essay  seven  years  previous,  was  one  of  the  best  of  the  class,  twen- 
ty-eight in  number,  but  this  address  the  "Star  in  the  West"  said,  "Was  in 
every  way  superior,  showing  conclusively  that  she  had  been  steadily  fitting 
herself  for  the  work  she  had  chosen.  She  has  accomplished  much  more 
perhaps,  than  she  dared  hope,  and  has  made  it  easier  in  all  future  time  for 
woman  to  labor  in  the  pulpit."  "Women  of  the  Century"  says  of  her,  "She 
took  her  place  in  the  ranks  of  the  ministry  as  well  furnished  intellectually  as 
any  man  ever  was ;  and  in  logical  acumen  and  forcible  speech  she  has  few 
equals." 

Mrs.  WiUis  is  an  able  Woman  Suffragist,  but  she  considers  this  subject 
incidental  to  what  she  was  sent  to  do,  although  it  lies  very  near  her  heart.  In 
her  campaign  in  18G7,  through  Kansas,  she  made  two  hundred  speeches. 
My  reader  must  remember  that  in  1867  political  influence  was  more  or  less 
against  the  movement,  and  no  preparation  for  the  presentation  of  this 
subject  had  been  made  previous  to  her  campaign,  and  yet  one-third  of  all 
the  votes  cast  were  for  Woman  Suffrage.  Very  good  for  a  "border  ruffian" 
State.  It  has  been  my  pleasure  to  listen  to  Mrs.  Willis  but  once  on  the  sub- 
ject above  mentioned,  at  the  Woman's  Congress,  in  Chicago,  in  1880. 
Many  speeches  were  made,  and  many  kinds  of  speeches — long  speeches  and 
short  speeches,  strong  speeches  and  flimsy  speeches,  but  among  the  most 
eloquent  hers  was  pre-eminent.  It  was  logical,  Scriptural,  fervent,  and  in 
all  respects  a  most  powerful  forensic  effort.  At  the  Woman's  Congress  at 
St.  Louis,  the  reporters  said  she  was  one  of  the  ablest  women,  by  no  means 
second  to  Susan  B.  Anthony.  She  was  reported  as  having  concise  thought, 
and  in  elaborating  it,  both  Scripture  and  logic  were  brought  into  requisition. 

Olympia  Brown  was  married  in  Providence,  B.  I.,  in  April,  1873,  to  Mr. 
John  Henry  Willis,  a  merchant  of  Bridgeport.  .  This  union  has  been  blest 
by  the  advent  of  two  promising  children,  the  elder  a  son,  Henry  Parker;  the 
younger,   m   daughter,   Gwendolin.     Their  home  is  one  of  hospitality  and 


OLYMPIA    BROWN    WILLIS.  131 

culture,  and  in  tenderness  and  care  of  the  household  Mrs.  Willis  is  in  every 
sense  of  the  word  a  model  wife  and  mother.  As  her  years  increase  her  na- 
ture develops  new  graces.  She  prefers  to  wear  her  baptismal  name,  and  is 
usually  called,  as  before  marriage,  Olympia  Brown,  though  many  of  her 
friends,  whose  judgment  we  accept,  designate  her  as  Mrs.  Willis. 

In  March,  187G,  Mrs.  Willis  removed  to  Racine,  Wis.,  and  the  follow- 
ing letter  from  Hon.  A.  C.  Fish,  of  that  city,  who  was  formerly  one  of  our 
most  consecrated  ministers,  will  inform  my  readers  in  what  estimation  she 
is  held  in  that  society. 

"Dear  Mada/tn: — I  take  pleasure  in  saying  that  Olympia  Brown  Willis's 
work  at  Racine,  where  she  is  now  preaching,  is  such  as  any  preacher  might 
rejoice  in.  The  field  was  by  no  means  a  promising  one  when  she  entered  it. 
The  parish  had  made  several  unsuccessful  efforts  to  raise  by  subscription  a 
sufficient  amount  to  call  a  minister.  Mrs.  Willis's  'call'  to  the  place  consisted 
solely  in  her  knowledge  of  the  fact  that  there  was  no  regular  preaching  in 
the  Universalist  church.  Her  response  to  a  most  discouraging  view  of  the 
situation  by  the  Secretary  of  the  parish  deserves  a  place  in  her  record. 

"  'Yours  just  received.  I  infer  that  there  is  no  objection  to  a  Sunday 
service  in  Racine,  therefore  I  shall  be  there  one  week  from  next  Sunday, 
Feb.  24th.  You  will  oblige  me  by  giving  the  proper  notice.  I  will  preach 
morning,  afternoon  or  evening,  or  all  three  as  the  people  may  desire.  Yours 
for  the  good  cause.' 

"Added  to  other  obstacles  in  her  path  wTas  the  inevitable  prejudice 
against  a  'woman  preacher.'  She  preached  three  Sundays,  and  March  10th, 
1878,  the  vote  was  unanimous  to  engage  her  for  two  years'  time  to  begin  first 
Sunday  in  April.  At  the  end  of  the  first  year  her  salary  was  increased  and 
a  flattering  resolution  passed  without  dissenting  voice. 

"As  one  of  the  results  of  her  three  years'  labor  in  Racine,  the  parish  has 
just  completed  the  thorough  renovation  and  repair  of  its  church  building,  at 
a  cash  expenditure  ot  about  four  thousand  dollars,  making  it  one  of  the  neat- 
est and  most  attractive  houses  of  worship  in  the  city." 

Referring  to  the  compliment  the  Racine  parish  paid  her  of  making  her 
life  member  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association,  she  says,  "It  was  a  most 
generous  compliment  on  their  part,  which  I  appreciated  and  with  which  1 
was  pleased,  but  I  have  conscientiously  refrained  from  belonging  to  soeieti* 


432  OUR   WOMAN   WORKERS. 

of  women  only,  believing  that  the  Lord  knew  what  was  best  when  he  placed 
men  and  women,  boys  and  girls,  together  in  families.  I  have  the  highest 
respect  for  the  efficient,  energetic  management  of  the  Woman's  Centenary 
Association,  the  Woman's  Congress  and  the  Woman's  Christian  Union.  I 
respect  all  our  organizations  for  raising  money  for  our  cause,  whether  com- 
posed of  lay- women  or  lay-men  or  both.  I  shall  render  each  and  all  of  them 
any  aid  in  my  power. " 

Olympia  Brown  Willis  is  one  of  the  half-dozen  of  our  Woman  Ministers 
who  would  be  placed  by  the  general  consent  of  our  people  in  the  front  rank. 

Mr.  Fish  writes,  "Mrs.  Willis's  spirit  of  work  and  tact  in  setting  others 
at  work  is  excellent,  and  her  ability  as  a  preacher  is  recognized,  not  only  by 
her  own  church,  but  by  the  public.  We  always  feel  when  she  rises  to  speak 
that  she  has  something  to  say  that  is  'in  point,'  and  she  always  says  it  well. 
When  she  came  to  Kacine  some  of  the  parish  were  groping  about  in  search 
of  'advanced  thought,'  some  from  social  and  other  causes  hid  become  inter- 
ested in  other  churches,  and  some  were  indifferent.  Mrs.  Willis's  sermons  in- 
terested the  indifferent,  called  many  of  the  wanderers  back,  and  furnished 
food  for  thought  to  the  most  advanced  thinkers. 

"In  addition  to  her  church  work  she  is  a  model  wife  and  mother,  giving 
her  children  scrupulous  care  and  attention. 

"The  world  is  moving  in  the  direction  of  women  occupying  wider  fields 
of  usefulness  than  ever  before,  and  Olympia  Brown  Willis's  record  entitles  her 
to  a  place  among  the  pioneers  in  the  grand  work. " 

Mrs.  Willis  writes  to  me  under  recent  date,  "To-day  I  feel  more  and 
more  interested  in  the  work  of  the  ministry  than  ever  before.  'I  must  go 
on,'  as  Constantine  said,  'until  the  God  who  leads  me  stops.'  " 


AUGUSTA   J.    CHAPIN. 

Rev.  Augusta  J.  Chapin,  who  in  voice,  dignity  of  manner  and  natural- 
ness is  admirably  fitted  for  the  Christian  ministry,  is  the  daughter  of  Almon 
M.  and  Jane  (Pease)  Chapin.     She  was  born  in  Lakeville,  Livingston  Co., 


'  .  -  I 


AUGUSTA  J.  CHAPIN. 


AUGUSTA    J.    CHAPIN.  433 

N.  Y.,  July  10,  183G.  When  but  six  years  of  age  her  parents  moved  to  Ve- 
vay,  Ingham  Co.,  Mich.,  and  this  has  been  the  family  home  from  that  time 
to  the  present. 

Her  childhood  was  passed  before  the  wonderful  changes  of  modem 
times  had  occurred,  and  of  course  in  extreme  seclusion.  Neighbors  were 
"like  angels'  visits."  A  friend  of  Miss  Chapin  writes,  "Augusta  was  very 
small  of  her  age,  very  delicate  in  complexion  and  painfully  sensitive  and  re- 
tiring in  manner,  but  her  father,  being  proud  of  her  aptness  to  learn  and 
ability  to  retain  what  she  had  learned,  gratified  his  pride,  and  the  mis- 
taken idea  that  most  people  had  in  those  years,  that  parents  could  not  com- 
mence too  young  "to  teach  the  young  idea,"  and  so  he  allowed  her  to  go  reg- 
ularly to  school  at  three  years  of  age." 

In  the  little  red  school-house — of  course  it  was  red,  as  most  school - 
houses  were  in  those  days — Augusta  commenced  her  education,  and  the 
school  being  small  and  she  apt,  it  pleased  the  teacher  to  give  her  a  good 
deal  of  attention.  Mathematics  was  her  favorite  study,  and  she  paid  little 
attention  to  any  other  branch  until  she  had  completed  the  full  amount  of 
mathematics  prescribed  in  a  college  course.  After  which  she  took  Greek, 
Latin,  French  and  German,  and  filled  in  an  irregular  way  the  entire  classical 
course. 

The  ample  library  which  was  brought  into  this  wilderness  by  the  father, 
afforded  great  pleasure  and  much  instruction  to  the  child  and  woman.  The 
New  Testament  was  used  as  a  reading  book  in  school,  and  whole  chapters 
were  read  daily  by  teachers  and  pupils  in  alternate  verses.  In  the  primitive 
Sunday-schools  which  she  attended,  no  instructions  or  explanations  were 
ever  given,  but  credits  and  cards  were  awarded  to  those  who  recited  the  great- 
est number  of  verses  weekly.  In  the  strife  for  these  rewards  Augusta  com- 
mitted to  memory,  in  process  of  time,  the  Gospels  and  other  large  portions 
of  the  New  Testament. 

Attracted  by  the  mystic  style  and  wonderful  imagery  of  "Pilgrim's 
Progress,"  she  read  it  scores  of  times  before  she  was  able  to  understand  its 
allegorical  teachings.  "Robinson  Crusoe"  became  a  volume  of  unfailing  in- 
terest to  her.  She  read  and  re-read  it  until  the  pages  were  worn  and  soiled, 
until  the  covers  were  gone,  and  many  of  the  outside  leaves  missing,  and 


434  OUR  WOMAN  WORKERS. 

finally  all  remonstrances  failing  to  wean  her  from  the  book,  it  was  seized  and 
burned  in  her  presence,  to  her  great  dismay  and  grief,  before  she  was  ten 
years  old. 

At  the  age  of  fourteen  she  taught  a  term  of  school  some  miles  from 
home.  She  then  resumed  her  own  attendance  at  school,  and  continued  it 
until  the  Winter  after  she  was  sixteen,  when  she  taught  another  term.  At 
the  close  of  this  term  she  went  at  once  to  Olivet  College,  located  in  Eaton 
Co.,  Mich.  Miss  Chapin  remained  at  Olivet  several  years,  studying  hard, 
and  too  much  secluding  herself  from  society,  not  even  giving  herself  time  to 
make  acquaintances  among  the  students. 

Olivet  College  is  under  the  control  of  the  Congregationalists,  and  was 
modeled  upon  the  same  plan  as  Oberlin  before  it,  and  still  retains  this  char- 
acter. The  religious  atmosphere  was  very  stringent,  and  it  strongly  attracted 
the  attention  of  this  young  girl.  Her  mind  had  never  before  been  turned 
to  religious  doctrines.  She  was  called  upon  or  forced  to  pass  through 
a  religious  experience  of  the  most  painful  character,  and  for  months,  while  in 
uncertainty  as  to  the  truth  or  falsity  of  the  doctrine  of  eternal  punishment, 
lived  in  excitement  which  bordered  on  insanity,  and  doubtless  would  have 
ended  in  madness  had  she  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  horrible  dogma 
was  true.  Young  and  ignorant  as  she  was  she  plodded  through  the  Biblical 
evidences  pro  and  con,  with  no  friend  to  counsel  and  no  aids  but  ortbodox 
commentaries.  But  finally  all  doubts  were  removed,  and  she  was  sure  that 
Universalism  was  the  doctrine  of  the  Bible  as  weU  as  of  nature  and  reason. 
At  the  early  age  of  seventeen  she  was  in  possession  of  this  immovable  con- 
viction, and  looking  forward  to  the  work  of  preaching  the  full  Gospel.  She 
says: 

"I  have  no  recollection  of  ever  considering  the  question  of  whether  I  would 
preach  or  not.  I  never  deliberately  chose  the  profession  of  the  ministry; 
from  the  moment  I  believed  in  Universalism  it  was  a  matter  of  course  that 
1  was  to  preach  it.  I  never  questioned  as  to  how  I  came  by  this  purpose, 
nor  did  it  ever  seem  in  the  least  strange  that  I  should  preach,  nor  had  I  any 
real  conception  of  how  my  course  must  appear  to  my  friends  and  the  world 
until  I  had  been  more  than  ten  years  in  the  active  work.  So,  when  people  have 
asked  me  how  I  came  to  enter  the  ministry,  I  have  answered  truly  that  they 


AUGUSTA    J.    CHAPIN. 


435 


knew  as  much  about  it  as  I,  and  I  think  it  was  this  wondering  question  so 
often  asked,  that  finally  made  me  aware  that  my  position  and  work  were  un- 
usual for  a  woman.  Yet  I  have  never  been  able  to  realize  this  fact  except  by 
strong  effort,  and  have  always  forgotten  it  utterly  at  other  times,  and  when 
engaged  in  my  work.  I  have  never  felt  it  necessary,  as  so  many  do,  to  assert 
myself  or  maintain  my  position,  to  explain  it  or  apologize  for  it." 

When  Miss  Chapin  left  Olivet  she  entered  "Michigan  Female  College." 
This  college,  then  in  its  infancy,  met  with  reverses,  and  after  the  death  of  its 
president,  ten  years  later,  the  school  was  abandoned.  At  these  two  schools, 
with  such  instructions  as  she  received  from  her  father,  she  completed  a  clas- 
sical course.  Not  wishing  to  take  a  degree  from  either  of  these  institutions, 
she  left  school  with  the  intention  of  going  to  Lombard  University  or  Antioch, 
to  study  another  year  and  graduate  in  due  course.  She  was,  however,  im- 
mediately drawn  into  a  busy  life,  and  found  no  more  time  to  spend  as  a  stu- 
dent within  college  halls.  The  Trustees  of  Lombard  University  ascertaining 
the  facts,  conferred  upon  her  in  June,  1868,  the  degree  of  Master  of  Arts. 
This  was  given  not  only  as  an  honorary  degree,  but  because  it  had  been  actu- 
ally earned  by  the  usual  study  and  training  in  other  institutions. 

For  two  years  Miss  Chapin  was  principal  of  schools  in  Lansing  and 
Lyons.  Afterwards  at  the  latter  place,  she  took  the  principalship  of  the 
"Lyons  Institute,"  and  for  two  years  taught  ten  or  twelve  hours  a  day.  She 
took  the  classes  in  the  Greek,  Latin,  French  and  German  languages,  also  in 
the  higher  mathematics,  oil  painting  and  drawing. 

She  began  preaching  before  her  teaching  was  abandoned,  if  indeed, 
teaching  has  ever  been  adandoned  by  her.  I  think  up  to  the  present  time, 
she  has  continued  to  have  classes  in  languages  or  literature.  Her  first  ser- 
mon was  preached  in  Portland,  Mich.,  May  1,  1850,  a  year  before  Olympia 
Brown  entered  Canton,  and  twenty  years  from  the  date  of  her  first  sermon 
she  held  anniversary  services  in  the  same  church,  many  members  of  the  old 
church  and  choir  being  present. 

Miss  Chapin  entered  the  ministry  under  the  old  regime,  when  Letters 
of  Fellowship  were  only  given  to  candidates  who  had  "preached  to  good  ac- 
ceptance for  one  year  or  over."  One  securing  such  a  Letter  of  Fellowship, 
was  regularly  admitted  to  the  Universalis!  ministry,  and  might  be  ordained 


436  OUR   WOMAN  WORKERS. 

at  once.  But  she  made  no  application  for  fellowship  until  she  had  been 
preaching  three  years.  The  letter  when  asked  for  was  granted  immediately 
by  a  unanimous  vote  of  the  Convention  convened  at  Portland,  Mich.,  May  3 
and  4,  1862.  She  was  formally  ordained  at  Lansing,  Mich.,  Dec.  3,  1863, 
Rev.  C.  W.  Knickerbacker  preaching  the  sermon. 

The  first  years  of  her  ministry  were  spent  in  itinerant  work.  Miss  Cha- 
pin  says,  "There  was  not  in  1862  a  settled  pastor  in  Michigan."  She  had  a 
circuit  of  regular  appointments,  which  she  filled  once  in  two  or  four  weeks. 
She  writes  me,  "My  settlements  have  been  at  Portland,  Mich.,  1864;  Mount 
Pleasant,  la.,  1868;  Iowa  City,  la.,  Jan.  1,  1870;  Pittsburg,  Penn.,  1875, 
and  Aurora,  111.,  in  1871.  I  have  preached  as  regular  supply  at  several 
places — at  Milwaukee,  Wis.,  for  six  months;  at  Blue  Island,  111.,  for  nearly 
two  years;  at  Lansing,  Mich.,  for  six  months;  for  several  weeks  in  San 
Francisco,  Cal.,  and  for  a  few  months  in  Allston,  near  Boston,  Mass.,  and 
recently  in  Decatur  and  Lapeer,  Mich.  I  have  preached  in  fifteen  different 
States  in  the  Union,  including  those  on  the  Pacific  Coast.  I  attended  the 
first  State  Convention  ever  held  in  Oregon,  and  did  nearly  all  the  preaching." 

The  most  of  the  time  she  has  preached  twice  on  Sundays,  and  often 
three  times.  She  has  preached  more  than  2,000  sermons.  At  one  time  in 
Western  Pennsylvania,  she  preached  twenty-one  evenings  in  succession. 
She  adds,  "I  have  solemnized  marriages  in  many  of  these  States,  among  the 
rest  I  performed  a  marriage  ceremony  in  San  Francisco,  July  11,  1874,  and 
I  suppose  that  this  was  the  first  instance  of  a  woman  performing  the  mar- 
riage ceremony  on  the  Pacific  Coast." 

Churches  were  built  during  her  pastorate  in  Iowa  City  and  in  Decatur. 
She  preached  Rev.  L.  G.  Powers'  ordination  sermon,  also  Rev.  F.  E.  Kol- 
lock's.  She  was  the  ministerial  delegate  from  Iowa  to  the  Centennial  Conven- 
tion, consequently  member  of  the  Council.  This  without  doubt,  was  the  first 
instance  of  a  woman  taking  a  seat  in  the  Council  of  the  General  Convention. 
A  new  departure  of  the  new  century. 

She  accepted  the  invitation  to  deliver  the  address  before  the  graduating 
class  of  the  Divinity  School  of  St.  Lawrence,  at  Canton,  N.  Y.,  but  being 
called  to  the  Pacific  Const  to  attend  a  sick  brother,  she  withdrew  from  the 
engagement.    She  is  a  member  of  the  "Congress  of  Women,"  and  in  New  York 


CAROLINE    A.  SOULE. 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  ^137 

City,  contributed  a  paper  on  "Women  in  the  Ministry."  hi  1808,  and  again  in 
1878  she  gave  the  Annual  Address  before  the  Zeteealian  Society,  of  Lombard 
University.  The  latter  occasion  being  a  short  time  alter  the  death  of  Bryant, 
she  made  him  the  subject  of  her  address. 

The  "  Galesburg  llegister"  said  of  the  address,  "The  quotations  were 
given  with  a  faultless  elocution,  and  the  lecture  throughout  was  in  a  high  po- 
etical strain,  well  worthy  of  the  grand  life  of  which  it  treated." 

Eev.  J.  W.  Hanson,  D.D.,  says,  "Her  pulpit  manner  is  eminently  appro- 
priate and  fitting,  and  her  sermons  are  characterized  by  good  sense,  a  per- 
spicuous style,  and  entire  absence  of  all  affectation.  She  impresses  her 
hearers  with  a  conviction  of  her  sincerity,  and  that  she  treats  her  theme 
conscientiously  and  thoroughly." 

Miss  Chapin  has  written  a  good  deal  for  our  denominational  papers  and 
magazines.  She  wrote  a  series  of  articles  for  the  Sunday-school  lessons, 
which  appeared  in  the  "New  .Covenant"  in  1878,  but  says,  "What  ever  else  I 
am,  I  am  quite  sure  of  not  being  much  of  an  author.  My  life  has  been  a  busy 
one.  Public  and  professional  duties  have  crowded  upon  me,  until  I  have 
always  had  more  than  I  knew  how  to  do.  And  often  a  great  opportunity 
has  come  to  me  before  I  knew  how  to  use  it."  But  the  readers,  of  such 
articles  of  hers  as  "Music  in  Education,"  and  "Success  in  Church  Work," 
in  the  "Ladies'  Repository,"  will  differ  from  her  own  estimate  of  her 
ability  as  an  author.  They  show  her  to  be  capable  of  great  literary  excel- 
lence. Only  absolute  want  of  space,  at  this  stage  of  my  work  compels  me  to 
refrain  from  demonstrating  my  opinion  by  publishing  these  very  able  papers. 

The  portrait  of  Miss  Chapin  is  a  faithful  presentation  of  her  personal 
appearance. 


CAKOLINE    A.    SOULE. 

Amid  all  the  records  of  beautiful  womanhood  contained  in  this  volume, 
there  are  none  more  varied  and  interesting  than  that  which  I  am  now  to 
place  before  the  reader.     Caroline  A.  Soule  has  occupied  for  nearly  forty 


438  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

years  a  prominent  position  in  the  Universalist  church,  and  the  record  of 
these  years,  filled  as  they  have  been  with  consecrated  labor  in  various  depart- 
ments of  our  social,  literary  and  religious  hfe,  is  of  almost  romantic  interest. 
I  am  to  sketch  the  career  of  one  who  has  been  not  only  faithful  to  all  the 
responsibilities  and  duties  of  womanhood,  and  a  worker  in  particular  church 
relations,  but  who  has  successively  occupied  among  us  the  position  of  edu- 
cator, author,  editor,  organizer,  evangelist  and  pastor!  To  crowd  into  the 
compass  of  a  few  pages  the  history  or  incidents  of  such  a  career  is  clearly 
impossible.  But  I  may  be  successful  in  giving  the  outlines  so  honorable 
to  the  heroic  worker,  and  so  inspiring  to  all  who  seek  the  emulation  of  noble 
example. 

Caroline  Augusta  White  was  born  in  Albany,  N.  Y.,  September  3,  1824. 
She  was  the  daughter  of  Nathaniel  and  Elizabeth  White,  and  the  third  child 
in  a  family  of  six,  three  of  whom  died  in  infancy.  As  blood  is  said  to  "al- 
ways tell" — rather  doubtful  sometimes  I  think — I  may  mention  the  fact 
that  on  her  father's  side  she  is  pure  English,  he  being  a  descendant  of  the 
Whites  and  Steeles  who  emigrated  to  New  England  from  the  parent  country 
some  200  years  ago,  and  by  intermarriages  the  blood  was  kept  pure.  On 
the  mother's  side  singularly  enough,  she  is  French  and  Dutch,  her  maternal 
grandfather  being  a  full  blooded  Frenchman  from  the  south  of  France,  her 
maternal  grandmother  equally  full  blooded  Holland  Dutch,  a  descendant  of 
one  of  the  first  settlers  of  Albany.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  White  were  among  the  earliest 
Universalists  in  that  city,  and  if  not  strictly  born  in  that  faith,  their  distin- 
guished daughter  was  certainly  reared  in  it,  and  her  first  childish  recollections 
of  divine  worship  were  all  associated  with  the  little  church  on  Herkimer 
street,  the  first  ever  erected  by  the  Universalists  in  the  capital  of  New  York, 
and  of  which  Rev.  I.  D.  Williamson,  then  a  young  man,  was  pastor.  With 
Mr.  Williamson  and  his  successor,  Rev.  S.  R.  Smith,  began  that  intimacy 
and  friendship  with  the  Universalist  ministry  which  has  since  been  so  widely 
extended,  and  around  which  are  now  clustered  so  many  tender  and  jirecious 
memories  of  the  departed. 

Caroline  resided  in  Albany  throughout  childhood  and  early  girlhood, 
going,  as  was  the  custom  in  those  days,  from  one  "dame's"  school  to  another, 
and  improving  to  the  uttermost  the  few  advantages  that  then  came  in  the  way 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  430 

of  the  pupils  attending  these  primitive  affairs.  She  was  an  extremely  shy  and 
diffident  child,  sensitive  to  such  an  extreme  degree,  that  she  was  often  in 
tears,  yet  possessed  of  such  a  tender  and  resolute  conscience  that  she  never 
failed  to  do  the  duty  that  was  required  in  the  home  or  schcol.  At  ahout  the 
age  of  twelve,  having  manifested  unusual  eagerness  for  study,  her  father  did 
what  was  then  an  almost  unheard  of  thing  for  a  mechanic  to  do,  sent  her  to 
the  Albany  Female  Academy,  then  one  of  the  most  celebrated  institutions  in 
the  land.  She  attended  the  academy  five  years,  and  was  graduated  with  dis- 
tinguished honor  in  July,  1841,  receiving  one  of  three  gold  medals,  offered 
as  prizes  for  the  best  English  composition.  The  subject  of  her  graduating 
essay  was,  "The  Goodness  of  God  not  fully  Demonstrated  Without  the  Aid 
of  Revelation, "  and  although  written  several  months  before  she  attained  her 
seventeenth  birthday,  it  was  altogether  a  highly  creditable  composition, 
evincing  at  that  early  period  of  life  that  sublime  faith  in  the  love  of  God 
which  is  the  characteristic  of  the  Universalist  church,  and  it  was  also,  as  we 
now  see,  an  unconscious  forecast  of  her  career  as  a  religious  writer  ami 
teacher. 

Unfortunately  her  health  failed  so  rapidly  during  the  last  few  weeks  of 
her  school  life  that  her  teachers  feared  she  would  not  be  able  to  attend  the 
graduating  exercises  which  were  to  continue  several  days,  but  intense  excite- 
ment kept  her  up  through  the  five  days,  and  she  returned  home  only  to  go 
from  one  fainting  fit  to  another,  until  her  parents  almost  despaired  of  her 
life,  and  for  years  she  was  a  sufferer  from  the  imprudence. 

In  the  Spring  of  the  following  year,  1842,  Miss  White  became  Princi- 
pal of  the  Female  Department  of  Clinton  Liberal  Institute,  near  Utica,  N.  Y., 
being  selected  for  that  position  by  Rev.  S.  R.  Smith,  her  Albany  pastor, 
and  here  she  remained  for  two  terms  or  about  seven  months.  The  Institute 
was  then  seeing  its  darkest  days,  and  Miss  White  used  to  recall  the  days 
spent  at  Clinton  as  among  the  "bitter-sweet"  experiences  of  her  life — bitter, 
for  she  made  no  money  at  a  time  when  she  sorely  needed  it;  sweet,  for  she 
made  friends  whose  love  followed  her  in  all  her  wanderings.  Evidently  it 
was  at  Clinton  that  the  young  principal  began  that  self-sacrifice  for  the 
good  of  the  Universalist  church  which  has  never  forsaken  her,  and  which 
she  afterwards  was  to  exemplify  in  many  various  ways. 


440  OUR    WOMAN    "WORKERS. 

Some  recent  "Keminiscences"  of  Mrs.  Sortie's  sent  to  me  by  her  old  and 
valued  friend,  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  pertain  to  tins  period  of  her  life. 

"In  April,  1842,  Dr.  Clowes  brought  a  young  lady  to  our  house  in 
Utica,  N.  Y.,  to  rest  and  wait  for  the  Clinton  stage.  She  was  about  seven- 
teen years  old,  but  so  smaU,  slender,  timid  and  shrinking  that  she  looked 
even  younger.  And  this  was  Caroline  Augusta  White,  selected  by  Rev.  S. 
R.  Smith  (a  good  judge  of  needed  character  and  abihty)  to  be  the  Principal 
of  the  Female  Dejmrtment  of  the  Clinton  Liberal  Institute.  A  few  glances 
when  unseen  by  her  showed  that,  although  of  slight  make,  she  was  well  de- 
veloped and  balanced,  and  had  regular  features  with  mild  expression.  Her 
large,  dewy  eyes,  not  then  contracted  by  long,  painful  disease,  were  veiled  by 
drooping  lashes,  from  beneath  which  came  occasional  gleams  of  mirth  and 
pleasure.  We  wondered  how  she  would  fare  among  pupils,  some  larger  and 
older  than  herself.  I  had  had  a  trial  of  that  kind  in  early  life,  and  hoped  she 
too  might  succeed,  but  fears  intermingled.  We  learned  afterward  that  she  soon 
made  proof  of  her  ability  and  aptness  to  teach,  and  readily  won  the  respect 
and  love  of  her  pupils,  but  that  some  of  the  older  ones  jocosely  insisted  that 
she  must  wear  a  cap,  to  make  her  appear  more  matronly,  as  they  did  not 
like  to  be  governed  by  one  so  much  their  junior.  I  had  often  seen  Moravian 
girls  in  their  carjs,  and  was  not  surprised,  therefore,  to  learn  that  the  cap  did 
not  make  the  youthful  principal  appear  any  older. 

"After  some  months  I  saw  her  again  among  her  pupils  at  their  annual 
examination.  She  was  very  quiet,  pleasant  and  at  her  ease,  for  all  seemed  to 
be  swayed  and  moved  without  effort  by  her  spirit  alone.  She  had  proved  her 
ability  and  skill  as  a  teacher,  and  taken  her  position  and  rank  as  a  woman 
of  intelligence  and  influence." 

Miss  White  returned  to  Albany  at  the  close  of  1812,  and  remained  at 
home  until  the  28th  of  August,  1813,  when  she  was  married  to  Rev.  H.  B. 
Soule,  then  pastor  of  the  Universalist  church  in  Utica,  going  with  him  to 
that  city  after  a  brief  bridal  tour,  and  becoming  members  of  the  family  of 
Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh.  Here,  as  Mr.  Grosh  writes,  "She  blossomed  out  of  her 
timidity  and  reticence  as  a  stranger,  into  a  pleasant  companion  of  parents 
and  children  and  the  beloved  friend."  The  stay  in  Utica  was  only  for  about 
a  year,  but  this  was  sufficient  to  lay  the  foundation  of  that  valuable  friend- 


CAROLINE   A.    SOULE.  441 

ship  with  Mr.  Grosh  which  has  cheered  and  comforted  Mrs.  Soule  all  her 
days,  a  friendship  which  now  links  heart  to  heart  across  the  broad  Atlantic, 
and  finds  rare  delight  in  the  interchange  of  a  most  delightful  and  instructive 
correspondence. 

We  can  only  briefly  outline  the  changes  of  the  next  few  years.  In  the 
following  Spring  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Soule  removed  to  Boston,  Mass.,  he  becom- 
ing colleague  with  Father  Ballon.  In  June,  1845,  they  removed  to  Glou- 
cester, Mass.,  and  in  May,  1840,  to  Hartford,  Conn.,  which  city  had  been 
the  birthplace  of  Mrs.  Soide's  father.  In  April,  1851,  they  removed  to 
Granby,  and  not  long  after  to  Lyons,  N.  Y.  Mr.  Soule  left  his  family  on  the 
last  day  of  December,  1851,  the  picture  of  health  and  happiness,  and  with 
every  prospect  of  a  long  and  useful  life.  Before  the  month  of  January  had 
quite  passed  away,  he  was  dead  and  buried,  a  victim  to  that  terrible  disease, 
small-pox,  and  in  its  most  malignant  form.  Such  was  the  swift  sorrow  that 
came  upon  the  devoted  wife  and  mother. 

Mrs.  Soule  was  thus,  with  hardly  a  note  of  warning,  left  a  widow  to 
battle  with  the  world,  when  a  little  more  than  twenty-seven  years  old,  with 
five  children,  two  daughters  and  three  sons,  the  eldest  a  little  over  seven 
years  of  age,  the  youngest  only  a  year — a  widow  with  about  $300  in  money, 
her  husband's  library  and  their  furniture !  It  was  a  heart-rending  bereave- 
ment, and  touched  the  sympathies  of  all  our  people.  But  the  consoling 
faith  in  which  Caroline  Soule  was  reared  and  had  tints  far  lived,  did  not  de- 
sert her  in  extremity.  "God  took  my  husband,  but  he  did  not  leave  me 
comfortless,"  she  often  remarked  in  recalling  those  days.  Friends  rallied 
around  her,  and  help  came.  The  sharp  edge  of  poverty,  that  edge  which 
cuts  into  the  heart  with  the  fear  of  destitution,  was  turned  aside  and  imme- 
diate danger  of  penury  averted.  And  above  all,  most  wonderful  providence 
of  God,  by  and  through  these  afflictions  the  latent  power  of  the  future  writer 
and  preacher  was  developed,  and  avenues  for  usefulness  and  bread-winning 
for  herself  and  children  rapidly  opened  before  her. 

The  Universalist  public  first  became  acquainted  with  Mrs.  Soule's  abil- 
ity as  a  writer  by  a  most  touching  and  beautiful  article  on  the  death  of  her 
husband,  originally  published  in  the  "Christian  Ambassador,"  and  afterwards 
in  tract  form.     We  do  not  recall  its  exact  title,  but  it  was  devoted  to  the 

29 


442  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

comforting  power  of  Universalism,  as  illustrated  in  her  own  experience,  and 
created  a  profound  impression  throughout  our  church  by  the  pathetic  and 
eloquent  expression  of  her  sorrow,  and  the  consolations  of  her  Christian 
faith.  It  is  our  impression  that  Mr.  Soule  died  without  realizing  the  fact 
that  his  wife  possessed  decided  literary  ability,  although  her  first  stories  were 
published  in  the  "Hartford  Times,"  while  he  was  living.  At  his  death  the 
pen  became  at  once  her  resource,  and  it  was  soon  plying  to  good  purpose  to 
secure  a  livelihood  for  herself  and  children.  Though  at  this  time  not  gener- 
ally known  as  one  of  our  writers,  the  sketches  and  stories  which  she  had  con- 
tributed to  several  papers  gave  evidence  of  ability,  and  in  view  of  this  fact  it 
was  proposed  that  she  prepare  a  memoir  of  her  husband.  She  was  then  in 
a  state  of  health  that  tbreatened  entire  physical  prostration,  but  this  did  not 
deter  her  from  the  work.  She  entered  on  her  task.  While  not  neglecting 
her  duties  as  a  mother,  she  worked  so  diligently  at  the  memoir  that  in  a 
few  months  it  was  ready  for  the  press.  She  attended  to  its  jrablication  her- 
self, going  to  New  York  and  spending  several  weeks  there,  revising  it  and 
reading  the  proof.  In  September,  1852,  it  was  before  the  public,  a  large 
12mo  volume  of  396  pages,  the  biographical  portion  containing  171  pages, 
and  the  remainder  devoted  to  a  selection  from  the  sermons  and  addresses  of 
Mr.  Soule. 

With  the  publication  of  this  memoir  Mrs.  Soule's  reputation  as  a  grace- 
ful and  interesting  writer  was  at  once  established.  Although  so  rapidly  pre- 
pared, it  shows  few  traces  of  haste  or  carelessness  in  style,  and  in  form  and 
method  is  a  model  of  its  kind.  It  has  long  been  a  favorite  volume  in  our 
home  and  Sunday-school  libraries.  Whittier's  beautiful  words  on  the  title 
page  are  an  index  to  the  religious  consolation  of  its  pages : 

God  calls  our  loved  ones,  but  we  lose  not  wholly 

What  he  has  given; 
They  live  on  earth,   in   thought  and  deed,   as  truly 

As  in  his  heaven. 

We  can  give  in  these  pages  no  adequate  history  of  the  labors  and  strug- 
gles of  this  gifted  woman  during  the  next  twelve  or  fifteen  years  of  her  life. 
They  cover  not  only  a  literary  experience  which  was  largely  identified  with 
the  Universalist  church,  but  also  many  associations  of  hardship  and  toil,  and 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  Wd 

passages  in  personal  history  which  rooted  themselves  as  additional  sorrows 
in  her  already  stricken  life.  "Meanwhile,"  in  the  words  of  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh, 
"her  home  had  been  in  the  West,  where  her  children  grew  up  amid  the  hard- 
ships of  pioneer  life.  She  had  passed  through  those  changes  which  toil, 
privations  and  the  sufferings  of  body,  mind  and  heart,  endured  for  years, 
are  apt  to  work  in  the  female  form  and  features.  These  had  taught  her 
womanly  confidence  and  perseverance  in  chosen  labors  for  those  she  loved, 
but  did  not  remove,  if  they  did  not  increase,  the  timidity  of  her  early  years, 
which  made  her  shrink  from  crowds  and  especially  from  strangers.  .  Only 
her  necessities,  and  the  pressing  wants  of  her  loved  ones,  forced  her  to  brave 
publicity." 

But  before  coming  to  the  record  of  Mrs.  Soide's  public  life,  which  Mr. 
Grosh  alludes  to,  I  must  touch  still  further  on  her  labors  with  the  pen — 
that  industrious  pen  which  was  ever  busy,  and  the  instrumentality  of  her 
largest  usefulness  before  the  eloquent  voice  was  heard  in  public.  For  sev- 
eral years  Mrs.  Soule  was  a  regular  contributor  to  "Gleason's  Pictorial"  and 
the  "Flag  of  the  Union,"  both  Boston  publications  of  a  popular  character. 
She  also  contributed  more  or  less  to  all  our  denominational  weeklies.  From 
1852  until  1857  she  was  a  regular  contributor  to  the  "Ladies'  Repository." 
In  the  latter  year  she  became  Western  Corresponding  Editor,  which  position 
she  retained  until  the  "Repository"  passed  into  new  hands  on  the  death  of 
her  friend,  the  publisher,  Abel  Tompkins.  During  this  time  she  resided  in 
Iowa,  and  corresponded  for  several  other  journals,  and  once  edited  (sub  rosa) 
a  political  paper  for  six  months,  during  the  second  Lincoln  campaign.  In 
addition  to  the  memoir  of  her  husband,  she  has  written  three  books,  "Home 
Life:  or  a  Peep. Across  the  Threshold,"  "The  Pet  of  the  Settlement,"  and 
"Wine  or  Water,  a  Temperance  Story.  These  books,  I  believe,  all  belong 
to  the  period  of  her  Western  experience.  She  also  edited  for  two  years  "The 
Rose  Bud,"  a  juvenile  annual,  published  by  Abel  Tompkins.  Her  stories 
and  prose  articles,  if  collected,  would  fill  many  volumes,  while  her  poems  and 
ditties  for  children  are  almost  countless. 

Mrs.  Soule  has  done  in  her  day  almost  every  species  of  writing,  but  her 
specialty  is  stories.  These  are  generally  of  a  sweet,  domestic  character,  wuth 
a  moderate  infusion  of  the  tender  sentiment  when  required  for  plot  or  inter- 


444  OUB    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

est.  As  a  writer  for  children  and  the  home,  she  has  no  superior  in  the 
Univer salist  church.  It  was  her  love  for  the  children,  and  a  desire  to  exer- 
cise her  gifts  in  this  special  direction,  that  caused  her  to  embark,  in  July, 
1868,  in  the  publication,  in  New  York,  of  the  "Guiding  Star,"  a  semi- 
monthly Sunday-school  paper,  of  which  she  was,  for  several  years,  her  own 
publisher,  and  for  the  entire  eleven  years  of  its  existence,  its  sole  proprietor 
and  editor.  The  earlier  volumes  of  this  paper,  which  enjoyed  the  undivided 
efforts  of  Mrs.  Soule  as  editor,  were  highly  successful,  and  secured  a  large 
constituency  of  readers.  Her  experience  as  the  original  publisher  of  the 
"Guiding  Star"  is  well  and  humorously  told  in  an  address  given  in  New 
York,  entitled  "A  Little  Bit  of  What  I  Know  About  Publishing  a  Paper,"  be- 
fore "Sorosis,"  of  which  assembly  of  noted  women  Mrs.  Soule  was  for  many 
years  a  conspicuous  member.  Mrs.  Soule's  experience  as  an  editor  is  not  yet 
all  told.  She  was  for  seven  months  at  one  time  sole  editor  of  the  "Christian 
Leader,"  then  the  organ  of  the  New  York  State  Convention  of  Universahsts, 
doing  all  the  work  excepting  the  strictly  theological  portion,  and  at  the 
same  time  writing  stories,  sketches  and  poems  for  the  contributors'  depart- 
ment— work  entirely  outside  the  sphere  of  a  managing  editor.  Her  ad  in- 
terim editorship  was  a  valuable  service  to  the  church  at  that  particular  time. 

With  aU  this  multitudinous  labor,  who  woidd  imagine  that  Mrs.  Soule 
managed  to  get  time  for  private  correspondence?  Yet  it  is  a  fact  that  she  is 
a  most  faithful  and  painstaking  correspondent,  and  for  many  years  her  pri- 
vate letters  have  averaged  over  six  hundred  a  year!  During  her  residence  in 
New  York  she  also  acted  for  three  years  as  amanuensis  to  Hon.  Thurlow 
Weed,  one  of  her  early  Albany  friends,  the  well  known  editor  and  politician, 
doing  the  work  at  night  after  a  hard  day's  labor  in  a  newspaper  office. 

I  now  come  to  the  record  of  Mrs.  Soide's  public  life  as  an  evangelist 
and  pastor.  And  here  again  a  thrilling  interest  attaches  to  her  career,  and 
the;  same  devotion  and  womanly  self-sacrifice  is  exhibited.  Of  this  great 
change  in  her  life  Rev.  Mr.  Grosh  writes: 

"The  desire  to  aid  her  church  and  advance  its  interests,  during  its  cen- 
tennial year,  1870,  led  her  and  others  to  organize  the  'Woman's  Centenary- 
Association  of  the  Universalist  Church,'  and  to  engage  mind,  heart  and  hand 
in  its  arduous  and  successful  labors.     The  same  necessities,  the  same  self- 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  445 

sacrifice  for  others,  the  same  love  for  the  cause  of  Jesus,  led  her  to  become 
an  advocate  for  the  higher  education  of  her  sex  and  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel 
of  the  world's  salvation,  to  leave  children,  friends,  home  and  country,  and 
become  the  solitary  missionary  of  the  W.  C.  A.,  among  strangers,  in  distant, 
foreign  Scotland." 

In  correspondence  with  Mr.  Grosh,  Mrs.  Soule  has  told  the  story  of  her 
early  attempts  at  public  speaking  in  such  a  frank  and  interesting  way  that 
I  gieatly  regret  that  the  space  at  my  disposal  for  this  article  is  not  sufficient 
to  publish  it  in  full.  But  yet  a  few  extracts  must  be  made.  Writing  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1880,  to  this  revered  friend,  Mrs.  Soule  says: 

"I  can  say  honestly,  I  was  led  by  God's  hand  into  speaking  of  our  faith 
in  public.  It  was  something  I  never  sought.  It  verily  came  to  me.  Ten 
years  ago  I  would  have  said,  had  any  one  told  me  I  should  ever  even  speak 
in  a  conference  meeting,  'It  is  one  of  the  impossibilities!'  While  I  was  never 
decidedly  against  women  preaching,  I  was  not  for  it.  I  waited  to  see  how  it 
would  result,  only  astonished  that  women  had  the  courage  to  speak  in  pul- 
pits! It  never  occurred  to  me  that  I  could.  I  was  so  diffident  naturally, 
had  such  a  fear  of  the  sound  of  my  own  voice,  had  such  a  weak  voice — in- 
deed, I  did  not  seem  to  myself  to  possess  any  requisites  of  a  public  speaker. 
And,  in  fact,  ten  years  ago  the  thought  of  ever  speaking  on  any  subject,  had 
not  entered  my  head.  Mrs.  Bucklin  and  some  others  will  tell  you  how,  at  a 
Sunday-school  conference  meeting,  at  Frankfort  on  the  Mohawk,  in  April, 
1869,  I  actually  ran  away  when  I  learned  that  the  Conference  was  deter- 
mined I  should  speak!  I  ran  away  because  of  my  great  dread  of  speaking! 
Very  silly,  it  seems  to  me  now,  this  fear  of  uttering  a  few  words  in  the  pres- 
ence of  those  brothers  and  sisters  on  a  subject  I  had  so  much  at  heart,  but 
I  could  not  help  it  then. 

"After  our  W.  C.  A.  began  its  work,  I  was  necessarily  obliged  to  speak 
to  our  women ;  but  my  sufferings  were  intense  always,  and  only  my  love  for 
the  cause  carried  me  through. 

"My  first  real  public  address,  outside  of  our  church  work,  was  in  the 
Union  League  Theater,  New  York  City,  in  October,  1873,  at  the  first  Wom- 
an's Congress.  How  I  ever  dared  consent  to  read  a  paper  there,  I  don't 
know,  only  that  I  was  anxious  that  Universahsm  should  be  well  represented. 


446  OUB   WOMAN    WOEKERS. 

If  ever  a  human  being  made  a  desperate  effort  to  overcome  timidity,  it  was 
myself,  when  I  stepped  on  that  platform  about  noon,  and  saw  before  me  a 
sea  of   heads,   with  the  formidable  row  of   reporters  at   my  feet.     I   read 
my  paper  of  thirty  minutes  long,  and  spoke  impromptu  thirty  more.     But 
I  did  it  for  Universahsm,  not  for  myself.     I  had  many  compliments  from  the 
press.     I  was  glad,  but  I  was  left  with  no  wish  to  emerge  from  my  former 
obscurity  as  a  speaker.     I  did  not  yet  believe  my  strength  lay  in  speaking. " 
The  beginning  in  this  direction  once  made,  the  way  again  providentially 
opened  before  our  brave  sister,  and  it  was  not  long  before  she  was  entirely 
engaged  in  preaching.     Her  first  sermons  were  prepared  and  preached  at 
the  Chapin  Home,  in  New  York,  while  she  was  yet  engaged  on  the  "Chris- 
tian Leader,"  her  advent  into  the  ministry  dating  from  the  first  Sunday  in 
1874,  after   which    Mrs.   Soule  was   fairly  embarked  on  that  career   as  a 
preacher  of  universal  love,  foreshadowed  in  the  graduating  essay,  at  Albany, 
of  the  girl  of  seventeen,  a  career  hidden  in  the  secrets  of  God  until  the 
woman,  after  years  of   trial  and  suffering,  had  reached  her  fiftieth   year. 
What  a  noble  celebration  of  the  half  century  in  the  life  of  Caroline  A.  Soule ! 
In  the  Autumn  of  this  year,  1874,  Mrs.  Soule  made  a  second  visit  to 
Cincinnati — the  first  was  in  1873 — when  she  attended  the  General  Conven- 
tion of  that  year,  and  spent  several  months  in  the  home  of  her  friend,  Rev. 
Dr.  Cantwell,   the  delightful  "Ingleside"  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  river, 
which  she  so  much  admired  on  account  of  its  romantic  situation,  taking  in 
the  sweep  of  the  beautiful  river  for  nearly  a  mile  east  and  west,  and  overlook- 
ing the  Kentucky  hills.     In  this  peaceful  retreat  she  passed  many  happy 
hours  in  company  with  her  devoted  friends  and  the  pastor  of  her  childhood, 
Rev.  I.  D.  Williamson,  D.D.,  who  in  November  of  1876  was  numbered  among 
the  immortals.     Mrs.  Soule's  attachment  to  "Ingleside"  was  made  evident  in 
her  published  articles  and  letters  of  this  period.     The  natural  situation  of  the 
place,  and  the  quaint  Doric  architecture  of  the  old  house  delighted  her.     As 
she  says,  it  reminded  her  of  the  Rhine,  "for  on  both  sides  of  the  river  here 
are  steep  banks,  terraced  off  with  vineyards,  where  purple  grapes  are  gather- 
ing sweetness  and  beauty  every  hour  in  the  Autumn  sun."     The  old  man- 
sion is  now  deserted  by  the  inmates  of  those  joyful  days.     Tire  central  figure 
in  the  group,  the  venerable  Dr.  Williamson,  is  no  more  on  earth,  Mrs.  Soule 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  447 

is  in  distant  Scotland,  and  the  editor  of  tho  "Star  in  the  West,"  and  his  es- 
timable wife,  are  now  doing  parish  work,  amid  new  and  strange  surround- 
ings in  North  Attleboro,  Mass. 

•Just  previous  to  this  visit  to  Cincinnati,  Mrs.  Soule  entered  upon  her 
work  as  Superintendent  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association,  and  held  a 
series  of  meetings  throughout  Ohio  in  the  interest  of  a  woman  professor- 
ship in  Buchtel  College,  at  Akron.  She  was  present  at  the  dedication  of  this 
institution  in  187:5,  and  made  one  of  the  addresses  on  the  occasion.  Her 
efforts  in  its  behalf  were  crowned  with  success,  and  a  full  professorship  of 
$20,000  was  secured.  Her  work  as  Superintendent  of  the  Association  was 
begun  at  Clinton,  N.  Y.,  the  scene  of  her  girlhood  labors  as  Principal  of  the 
Institute,  and  before  it  closed  extended  as  far  west  as  Nebraska,  and 
for  several  months  she  had  charge  of  a  mission  church  in  that  State,  and  did 
much  by  her  presence  to  strengthen  and  confirm  the  little  band  of  believers. 
It  is  impossible  to  record  even  the  various  places  where  she  preached  and 
lectured.  The  work  prospered  under  her  care,  and  a  good  impetus  was  given 
to  the  interests  of  the  Association  wherever  her  eloquent  voice  was  lifted. 
But  during  the  two  months  named  above,  her  labors  were  too  much  for  her 
strength,  and  the  time  had  evidently  come  when  nature  demanded  a  cessa- 
tion of  the  strain.  About  the  beginning  of  February  she  left  Cincinnati, 
which  had  been  her  headquarters,  for  New  York,  expecting  to  be  gone  two 
weeks.  Three  years  passed  away  before  she  again  saw  "Ingleside"  and  the 
Queen  City.  Arriving  at  New  York  she  was  taken  ill,  and  did  not  again 
leave  the  city  for  any  kind  of  work  until  May  8th,  when  she  sailed  for  Liver- 
pool, in  the  steamer  "Erin,"  as  she  said,  "not  knowing,  or  caring  much, 
whether  or  not  I  should  see  the  Old  World,  but  only  longing  for  sleep." 

Partial  recover;  from  her  nervous  trouble  and  rest  to  the  weary  brain 
was  the  immediate  result  of  the  ocean  voyage.  After  a  brief  tour  through 
England,  visiting  the  many  points  of  interest  and  enjoying  every  hour  of  her 
trip,  amid  the  historical  and  poetical  associations  of  the  country,  she  passed 
on  to  Scotland,  whither  she  was  attracted  by  the  little  hand  of  Universalists 
in  the  vicinity  of  Larbert,  near  Sterling.  The  friends  crowded  around  her, 
and  their  urgent  entreaties  were  not  to  be  disregarded,  especially  in  that  land 
where  Universahst  preachers  were  so  scarce.     She  consented,  and  thus  again 


418  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

opened  unexpectedly  a  new  era  in  her  life,  that  of  missionary  to  Calvinistic 
Scotland. 

Her  first  services  were  held  in  Stenhousemuir,  Larbert,  soon  after  at  the 
dedication  of  the  rebuilt  church  at  Stenhousemuir,  where  she  also  pro- 
nounced the  sentence  of  dedication.  This  was  in  August,  and  in  Sejitember 
she  visited  Dundee  and  officiated  twice  in  the  Unitarian  Christian  Church, 
of  which  Rev.  Henry  Williamson,  formerly  of  Norwalk,  Conn.,  was  the  pas- 
tor, but  she  was  compelled  to  resort,  in  serious  illness,  to  the  Hydropathic 
Institute  at  the  Bridge  of  Allan,  where  her  life  was  saved  by  wise  medical 
treatment. 

Mrs.  Soule  returned  to  New  York,  and  from  September,  1875,  until  No- 
vember, 1876,  she  did  not  speak  in  public,  and  almost  abandoned  the  idea 
of  ever  preaching  again.  But  the  success  she  had  achieved  was  not  lost  up- 
on herself  or  her  friends,  and  in  November  she  accepted  an  invitation  to 
preach  for  the  "Liberal  Christian  Association,"  of  Elizabeth,  N.  J.,  and  thus 
assumed  her  first  pastorate.  Mrs  Soule  says  of  this  Association,  "It  was  not 
a  church  to  which  I  was  invited  to  preach,  but  rather  a  curious  assemblage 
of  men  and  women  who  had  become  so  weary  of  the  style  of  preaching  in 
Elizabeth,  and  so  anxious  for  a  little  spot  where  they  could  go  on  Sundays 
and  be  refreshed,  that  they  had  associated  themselves  together  under  this 
name  for  a  year  or  so.     There  were  only  about  thirty  or  forty  in  all. " 

We  are  now  to  survey  Mrs.  Soule  as  a  regularly  constituted  Missionary 
to  Scotland,  in  the  employ  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association.  Re- 
sponding to  the  request  of  the  friends  in  Scotland,  the  Association  consented 
to  send  Mrs.  Soule  out  for  a  year  as  missionary,  to  help  them  in  the  brave 
struggle  they  were  waging  against  the  direful  sway  of  the  prevailing  Calvinism. 
Mrs.  Soule  was  willing  to  undertake  the  work  and  assume  charge  of  the  first 
mission  established  by  our  church  in  foreign  lands.  It  was  decided  that  the 
project  of  the  "Scottish  Mission"  be  at  once  laid  before  the  people,  and  if  it 
received  encouragement,  be  duly  inaugurated  in  June,  1878.  The  response 
was  swiftly  in  favor  of  the  enterprise.  Many  meetings  were  held,  and  the 
almost  unanimous  voice  of  the  church  was  heard  in  approbation.  Carolina 
A.  Souh:  ions  to  be  the  First  Foreign  Missionary  of  the  Universcdist  Church. 


CAROLINE    A.    SOULE.  449 

This  was  fitting.  The  first  Christian  Missionary  a  as  a  woman,  the  Woman 
of  Samaria,  who  carried  the  Gospel  from  the  Well  of  Sychar  to  those  who 
never  had  heard  of  the  Christ. 

The  events  of  the  Fall  of  1877  and  of  the  next  six  months  hefore  the 
Scottish  Mission  went  into  operation  need  not  he  detailed.  Returning  East 
as  far  as  Chicago,  after  a  visit  to  the  West  to  the  General  Convention  and 
the  annual  meeting  of  the  Centenary  Association,  she  gave  an  address  in  Dr. 
Ryder's  church,  on  "The  Responsibility  of  Christian  Women."  Then  unex- 
pectedly came  the  opportunity  for  signal  usefulness  at  Lincoln,  Neb.,  already 
referred  to.  Ten  weeks  were  spent  there.  At  Tecumseh,  in  that  State,  Mrs. 
Soule  organized  a  parish  of  thirty-three  members,  and  preached  the  first 
Universalist  sermon  ever  heard  at  York.  Returning  to  Cincinnati  for  the 
third  time,  she  expected  to  stay  two  weeks  and  remained  ten,  again  making 
her  home  at  "Ingleside,"  and  preaching  every  Sunday  at  Aurora,  Ind.,  and 
meantime  editing  the  "Guiding  Star"  and  writing  for  the  "Star  in  the  West." 
She  preached  her  last  sermon  before  leaving  America  in  Rev.  Mrs.  Hana- 
ford's  church  in  Jersey  City,  and  in  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  gave  an 
address  to  the  large  congregation  that  assembled  to  bid  her  farewell. 

On  the  18th  of  May,  1878,  the  missionary  sailed  for  Glasgow,  and  on 
the  first  Sunday  in  June  preached  her  first  sermon  in  that  city,  the  head- 
quarters of  the  mission.  It  was  the  same  sermon  that  she  had  preached  last 
in  America,  and  this  seemed  to  tie  the  knot  firmly  between  the  Universalists 
of  the  two  countries.  Mrs.  Soule  still  remains  abroad  actively  engaged  in 
the  work  of  her  mission,  her  leave  of  absence  for  one  year  having  been  twice 
extended  by  the  Association  under  whose  auspices  she  is  working. 

We  can  not  more  appropriately  end  this  record  of  the  heroic  "Woman 
Worker,"  than  by  quoting  from  one  of  her  letters  to  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  in 
which  she  briefly  reviews  her  first  year's  work  in  Scotland,  and  writes  touch- 
ingly  of  the  wray  in  which  she  came  into  the  ministry : 

"During  the  first  year  of  my  sojourn  in  Scotland  I  preached  in  Glasgow, 
Larbert,  Dunfermline,  Braidwood,  Lochee  and  Dundee,  Scotland;  in  Mose- 
ley,  Peckham  Rye,  Stratford  and  London,  England;  and  in  Belfast,  Ireland. 
During  my  second  year  in  Scotland,  I  have  preached  in  Glasgow  on  Sundays, 


450  OUE   WOMAN    WOEKEBS. 

and  in  Auchtermuchty,  Carluke,  Braidwood,  Perth  and  Dundee  on  week 
nights;  delivered  a  Channing  Memorial  Address  in  Aberdeen,  and  preached 
and  lectured  on  temperance  at  the  convention  meeting  in  Larbert. 

"Such,  my  dear  friend,  briefly  given,  is  the  record  of  the  year's  work. 
I  have  been  led,  in  despite  of  myself,  into  preaching.  God's  hand  has  been 
in  it  all.  Up  to  this  date  I  have  never  sought  a  place  to  preach.  I  have 
never  taken  any  steps  to  secure  a  place.  I  have  never  wished  for  a  place.  I 
have  never  prayed  for  one.  They  have  always  come  to  me.  The  voice  of 
God  has  sounded  in  my  ear,  and  I  have  obeyed  in  childlike  humility. 

"My  case  is  a  very  curious  one,  ....  quite  different  from  that  of 
young  men  and  women  who  study  for  the  ministry.  I  never  was  called  by 
God  to  preach  tiU  I  was  in  my  fiftieth  year.  I  had,  before  that,  done  a  good 
literary  work  for  our  church.  I  was  well  known.  It  was  not  as  though  I 
had  lately  come  into  the  church.  Everybody  knew  me.  My  character  was 
established,  and  was,  I  believe,  without  reproach.  There  were  some  friends 
who  would  have  liked  me  to  be  ordained  before  I  left  the  United  States,  but 
I  could  not  bring  my  mind  to  ask  license  and  ordination.  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  must  leave  myself  entirely  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord.  I  was  not  sure, 
myself,  that  I  could  preach  continuously — that  I  had  the  requisite  qualifica- 
tions.    I  felt  that  I  must  make  full  proof  of  my  ministry " 

Since  the  above  letter  was  written  (February,  1880),  Mrs.  Soule  has 
been  regularly  ordained  as  a  preacher  by  the  Scottish  Convention  of  Univer- 
sahsts,  the  first  woman  ever  ordained  in  Scotland  to  the  Gospel  ministry. 
Her  mission  has  been  eminently  successful,  not  only  in  Glasgow  where  she 
has  organized  a  parish,  but  also  in  other  parts  of  Scotland.  The  people  of 
her  congregation  fairly  idolize  her,  and  will  be  plunged  into  distress  when  she 
is  recalled.  Several  attempts  have  been  made  to  secure  her  return,  but  the 
Glasgow  friends  have  resisted  them  strongly,  and  thus  far  have  succeeded  in 
keeping  hei  among  them.  But  the  opinion  gains  ground  in  the  church  that 
the  coming  year  will  see  Caroline  Soule  again  in 'her  native  land,  and  at  work 
in  familiar  fields  for  the  upholding  of  the  Master's  great  cause. 

We  ought  not  to  omit  a  brief  reference  to  her  domestic  qualifications, 
which  are  fully  equal  to  her  mental  abilities,  and  the  only  thing  of  which  we 
ever  heard  her  express  any  vanity  was  her  capability  as  a  housekeeper.     She 


6r?sL^<~d 


£Un^^*<^^ 


P1KEBE    A.    HAXAFORD.  451 

has  the  home  talent  in  a  remarkably  strong  degree,  and  one  of  the  sacrifices 
she  makes  in  devoting  herself  to  ;i  public  career  is  giving  up  her  own  home- 
life. 

Those  who  only  know  Mrs.  Soule  as  a  writer  and  preacher  can  form  no 
idea  how  delightful  a  companion  she  is  in  the  home  circle;  cheerful,  witty  in 
a  quiet  way,  full  of  impromptu  shyness,  amiable,  interesting  and  lovable  to 
children,  who  never  fail  to  worship  her.  She  is  a  woman  who  never  aggra- 
vates one  by  nervous  peculiarities,  but  on  the  contrary,  her  mere  presence  is 
restful.  Those  who  have  visited  her  in  her  own  little  home,  "Content,"  at 
Fordham,  N.  Y.,  can  bear  testimony  to  this,  that  her  highest  aim  seems  to 
be  to  make  those  around  her  happy;  while  in  the  wider  sphere  of  public  life 
her  largest  ambition  has  been  to  benefit  and  help  huruanity. 


PHCEBE    A.    HANAFOED. 

Although  I  feel  that  I  cannot  improve  upon  the  sketch  of  Mrs.  Hana- 
ford's  life,  which  is  given  in  one  of  her  own  books,  "Women  of  the  Century," 
and  by  one  who  knows  better  than  any  one  else  can  know,  the  great  amount 
of  work  which  has  been  accomplished  by  this  active  woman,  and  her  excel- 
lencies of  spirit  and  character,  yet,  I  feel  inclined  to  restate  some  of  the  points 
of  interest  in  my  own  way,  giving  a  general  credit  to  Miss  Miles  for  most  of 
the  facts. 

Phcebe  A.  Coffin  was  born  May  6,  1829,  of  Quaker  parents,  on  the  is- 
land of  Nantucket,  and  is  a  descendant  of  the  old  schoolmaster  and  poet, 
Peter  Folger,  whose  daughter  was  the  mother  of  Benjamin  Franklin,  which 
makes  her  blood  relation  to  our  great  statesman  and  philosopher,  and  which 
also  brings  her  in  close  relationship  to  Maria  Mitchell,  the  astronomer,  and 
Lucretia  Coffin  Mott,  the  Quaker  preacher  and  reformer.  Such  relationship 
will  not  be  frowned  upon  by  anybody  who  has  blue  blood  in  her  own  veins. 
Until  Phoebe  Coffin  was  sixteen  years  old  she  studied  in  the  public  and 


452  OUE    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

private  schools  of  her  native  place,  and  at  that  time  she  commenced  teach- 
ing, hut  continued  to  pursue  her  studies  with  great  assiduity  with  the  late 
Eev.  Ethan  Allan,  then  rector  of  the  Episcopal  Church  on  the  island.  In  her 
girlhood  she  was  physically  and  mentally  very  attractive.  She  won  the  hearts 
of  the  old  people  by  the  gentle  respect  and  consideration  with  which  she  ever 
treated  them,  and  the  love  of  the  young  people  by  her  willingness  to  at 
least  halve  with  them. 

"In  1819  she  married  Dr.  J.  H.  Hanaford,  and  removed  to  Newton, 
Mass.,  where  for  a  year  she  assisted  her  husband  in  teaching,  at  the  same 
time  devoting  her  leisure  hours  to  literary  pursuits.  She  then  returned  to 
Nantucket  and  resided  there  until,  in  1857,  with  her  husband  and  two 
young  children,  she  removed  to  the  town  of  Beverly,  Mass.,  where  she  be- 
came personally  active  in  the  temperance  cause,  since  which  time  she  has  oc- 
cupied prominent  .offices  in  the  Grand  and  subordinate  lodges  of  Good  Tem- 
plars. She  became  chaplain  and  treasurer  of  the  Daughters  of  Temperance 
when  eighteen;  was  Worthy  Chief  several  times  in  subordinate  lodges  of 
Good  Templars,  Chaplain  of  the  Grand  Worthy  Lodge  of  Massachusetts  one 
year,  and  a  member  of  the  Eight  Worthy  Lodge  in  18G7.  She  assisted  in 
preparing  the  degree  ritual,  and  wrote  aU  but  one  of  the  hymns  in  the  rit- 
ual now  used  among  Good  Templars  for  the  dedication  of  a  hall,  or  the  bu- 
rial of  a  member. 

"In  186-4  she  removed  to  Eeading,  Mass.,  where  she  united  with  the  Uni- 
versalists  of  that  place,  and  soon  after  accepted  the  editorship  of  that  popu- 
lar magazine,  'The  Ladies'  Eepository.'  During  her  three  years  labor  on 
this  publication  its  subscription  hst  wras  increased  some  thousands.  In  1866 
she  commenced  preaching  in  the  town  of  Hingham,  Mass.,  where,  in  1868, 
she  was  ordained  and  installed  pastor  of  the  First  Universalist  Church,  Eev. 
John  G.  Adams  and  Eev.  Olympia  Brown  preaching  the  sermons.  In  1869 
she  accepted  a  call  from  the  Universalist  Society  at  Waltham,  and  for  one 
year  supplied  the  desk  on  alternate  Sundays  at  Hingham  and  Waltham, 
sending  supplies  to  the  vacant  pulpit.  At  the  close  of  the  same  year,  she  had 
a  unanimous  call  from  the  Universalist  Church  in  New  Haven,  Conn.  The 
following  April  she  took  charge  of  the  New  Haven  Society,  and  was  installed 
as  pastor,  June  9,  1870,  Eev.  Dr.  E.  H   Cliapin  preaching  the  sermon." 


PHCEBE    A.    UANAl'OiiJj.  453 

In  1874  she  removed  to  Jersey  City,  and  was  installed  pastor  of  the 
Church  of  the  Good  Shepherd,  on  the  Heights.  Rev.  John  G.  Adams 
preached  her  installation  sermon.  Her  hymns  at  all  her  installments  were 
written  hy  women. 

"She  was  the  first  woman  regularly  ordained  in  Massachusetts  or  New 
England;  the  first  woman  who  ever  as  a  regularly  appointed  chaplain  offici- 
ated in  the  Legislature  of  Connecticut;  the  first  woman  in  the  world  who 
ever  officiated  in  such  capacity  in  a  legislative  hody  of  men.  She  was  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Universalist  Committee  on  Fellowship,  Ordination  and  Discipline 
in  Connecticut,  and  has  served  for  three  years  as  chairman  of  such  a  com- 
mittee in  New  Jersey.  She  was  one  of  the  vice  presidents  of  the  association 
for  the  advancement  of  women  (Women's  Congress)  at  its  formation,  and 
has  since  been  on  its  Executive  Board,  and  has  furnished  papers  for  two  Con- 
gresses. And  she  was  the  first  woman  minister  who  ever  gave  the  charge  at 
the  ordination  of  a  man  minister — the  occasion  being  the  ordination  of  Rev. 
W.  G.  Haskell,  in  Marblehead,  Mass.,  and  was  the  first  woman  who  ever  at- 
tended a  Masonic  festival,  and  responded  with  an  address  to  a  toast  by  regu- 
lar appointment.  She  is  seeking  to  open  the  way  for  other  women,  as 
Olympia  Brown,  Lucy  Stone,  Lucretia  Mott  and  others  have  opened  the  way 
for  her.  She  disclaims  credit  for  having  walked  in  a  God-appointed  path; 
but  only  claims  to  be  a  busy,  hopeful,  loving  woman,  whose  highest  joy  will 
be  attained  when  right  shall  triumph  over  might,  and  every  soul  shall  be 
saved  from  sin. 

"None  but  those  who  know  her  in  her  home  can  conceive  of  the  amount 
of  labor  which  she  performs  with  her  pen.  Not  only  does  she  write  both 
prose  and  verse  for  many  of  the  newspapers  and  other  periodicals  of  the  day, 
but  she  has  had  published  ten  volumes.  She  is  never  idle.  Through  Win- 
ter's cold  and  Summer's  heat  she  is  busy,  active  in  all  the  reforms  of  the 
day,  a  prominent  worker  for  woman  suffrage,  a  general  favorite  in  the  lecture 
field,  while  as  a  preacher  she  is  having  an  enviable  success." 

Among  her  works  which  have  had  a  generous,  appreciative  circulation, 
are,  "My  Brother,"  prose  and  verse,  1852;  "Lucretia,  the  Quakeress,"  an 
Anti- Slavery  story,  published  first  in  "The  Independent  Democrat"  of  Con- 
cord, N.  H.,  and  then  in  book-form  in  1853;  "Leonette,"  a  Sunday-school 


454  OUR    WOMAN     WORKERS. 

book,  1857;  "The  Best  of  Books  and  its  History,"  1860,  previously  delivered 
as  lectures  in  the  Baptist  Sunday  school  of  Nantucket;  "The  Young  Cap- 
tain," a  memorial  of  Capt.  Richard  C.  Derby,  who  fell  at  Antietam,  1865; 
"Frank  Nelson,  or  the  Runaway  Boy,"  a  juvenile,  1865;  "Life  of  Abraham 
Lincoln,"  1865;  B.  B.  Russell,  Boston,  the  sale  of  which  reached  twenty  thous- 
and, five  thousand  being  also  published  in  Germany;  "Field,  Gunboat,  Hospital 
and  Prison,"  records  of  the  war,  1866;  "The  Soldier's  Daughter,"  a  prize- 
story,  1866;  "The  Life  of  George  Peabody,"  1870  (which  reached  a  sale  of 
sixteen  thousand);  "From  Shore  to  Shore,  and  Other  Poems,"  1871;  same 
year,  "The  Life  of  Charles  Dickens."  Other  smaller  volumes  for  children, 
many  editorials,  sketches  and  other  articles  in  prose  and  verse  for  many  peri- 
odicals, and  several  published  speeches  and  sermons  attest  to  her  busy  pen. 

Had  Mrs.  Hanaford  written  less,  her  writings  would  undoubtedly  have 
been  more  thoughtful  and  spirited,  and,  notwithstanding  the  favor  with 
which  her  writings  are  looked  upon,  she  would  to-day  enjoy  a  higher  reputa- 
tion as  an  author.  But  after  reading  the  following,  fresh  from  her  pen,  I 
question  whether  I  shall  ever  have  a  reader  who  has  been  sanctified  by  a 
mother's  love,  whose  convictions  will  not  be  in  favor  of  the  course  she  has 
pursued.     She  says: 

"All  my  books  have  been  prepared  among  pressing  duties  of  a  domes- 
tic, editorial  or  pastoral  character,  and  I  have  never  had  leisure  to  do  justice 
to  any  powers  God  may  have  bestowed  upon  me.  But  I  have  done  the  best 
I  could  under  the  circumstances,  and  have  attained  a  measure  of  success  far 
beyond  my  expectations.  Some  of  my  books  were  'made  to  order,'  and  such 
are  never  the  best  which  a  writer  might  prepare.  If  the  coming  years  afford 
me  the  leisure,  I  hope  to  do  something  more  worthy  of  our  church,  and  of 
the  Woman's  Cause.  I  claim  to  have  been  industrious  and  conscientious  in 
my  work,  and  if  I  have  often  written  for  money,  it  was  because  I  had  chil- 
dren who  needed  bread  and  education,  and  I  therefore  preferred  the  means  of 
helping  them  rather  than  literary  fame  for  myself.  I  am  no  poet;  I  am 
a  preacher,  and  God  called  me  to  preach." 

Mrs.  Hanaford  is  an  easy  speaker,  and  graceful  in  every  movement. 
She  is  a  woman  with  quick  sympathies,  and  has  done  her  part  nobly  for  our 
church  and  for  woman.     She  has  been  an  untiring  toiler  in  her  profession 


PHCEBE    A.    HANAFORD.  455 

and  with  her  pen,  but,  successful  as  she  has  been  as  a  prose  and  poetical 
writer,  her  work  in  the  pulpit,  on  the  platform  and  in  the  pastoral  field  has 
been  far  more  useful,  and  has  been  crowned  with  a  success  of  which  anv 
worker  for  humanity  might  be  gratefully  proud.  Her  likeness  in  this  volume 
will  convey  to  the  reader  an  impression  of  her  personal  appearance. 

The  subjoined  is  a  favorable  selection  from  the  many  poems  with  which 
Mrs.  Hanaford  has  enriched  our  literature. 


OUH    HOME    BEYOND    THE    TIDE. 
[Written  on  receiving  from  a  friend  a  beautiful  engraving  with  the  above  title.] 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide,  friend, 

Our  home  is  beyond  the   tide, 
Where  the  glorious  city  of  Lighl   is  seen 

Whose  gates  arc   open  wide; 
Through  the  golden  streets  of  that  city  fair, 

We  soon  shall  pass  along; 
And  a  holy  joy  shall  till  our   hearts, 

As  we  greei   the  shining  throng 
Who  walk  those  streets  through  the  endless  day— 

Earth's  dear  Dili's  side  by  side. 
Oh,  the   bliss  that   awaits  us  when  we  reach 

Our  home  beyond  tin'  tide! 

Our  home  is  beyond  the   tide,  friend, 

Our  home  is  beyond  tin'  tide. 
When'  the  river  of  life,   with  its  water  bright, 

Is  rolling  deep  and   wide 
There  the  tree  of  life,   with   its  fruit  so  fair, 

O'er  the   sparkling   waters   bend-; 
And  beneath  its  shade,  with  unmeasured  bliss, 

Wc  shall  meet  our  cherished  friends. 
Oh,  we  soon  shall  rest  in  those  sacred   bowers, 

Where  no  cynic  our  love  shall  chide, 
And  the  saints'  communion  unhindered  share. 

In  our  home  beyond  tie'  tide! 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide,  friend, 

Our  lnnne   is  beyond   tin'    tide; 
And  though  between  us  and  that  blissful  shore 

The   river  of  death   may   glide, 


456  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 


Yet  its  waters  rough,  surging   round  our  barks, 

Can  never  our  souls  o'erwhelm; 
We've  hope  for  the  anchor,  and  love  for  the   breeze. 

And  our  Savior  at  the  helm. 
We  shall  safely  pass  o'er  the  Jordan  of  death, 

To  the  land  where  the  saints  abide, 
To  the  home  of  the  angels,  the  mansions  of  joy, 

To  our  home  beyond  the  tide. 


Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide,  friend, 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide, 
And  many  a  loved  one,  speeding  there, 

Has  vanished  from  our  side. 
For  us  will  the  voiceless  Charon  soon 

With  his  muffled  oar  draw  nigh, 
And  bear  us  to  meet  the  welcome  sweet 

Of  loved  ones  now  on  high. 
How  thrills  the  heart  with  the  thought  of  tones 

Which  ne'er    from  our  hearts  have  died, 
Of  the  faces  dear  which  we  hope  to  greet 

In  our  home  beyond  the  tide! 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide,   friend, 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide; 
And  we  must  not  sigh,  with  a  vain  regret, 

For  the  ills  which  here  betide. 
But  oft,  from  the  heights  of  faith  sublime, 

Gaze  far  o'er  the  darksome  wave, 
And  bless  our  God  for  the  rest  from  care 

In  the  land  beyond  the  grave. 
The  waves  of  sin  surge  no  more  round  the  Rock, 

In  the  cleft  of  which  we  hide. 
Oh,  with  longing  hearts  we  wait  the  call 

To  our  home  beyond  the  tide! 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide,  friend, 

Our  home  is  beyond  the  tide; 
And  we  must  not  sigh  for  those  earthly  joys, 

"Best  Wisdom"  hath   denied. 
For  the  thorns  of  earth,  there  are  flowers  in  heaveb; 

For  its  cares,  there  is  long  repose; 
For  the  vale  of  tears,  there's  the  mount  of  joy. 

Where  the  heart  with  rapture  glows. 
Then  with  loving  hearts  wo  will  do  his  will, 

In  whose  promise  our  hearts  confide, 
And  patiently  wait  for  our  turn  to  reach 

Our  home  beyond  the  tide. 


SARAH    M.    BARNES.  ■  457 


SAKAH   M.    BARNES 

Is  the  daughter  of  Isaiah  and  Mary  (Trull)  Merrill,  and  was  born  in 
the  old  South  Parish  of  Andover,  Mass.  Notwithstanding  that  circumstance, 
however,  she  never  felt  that  she  was  "conceived  in  sin  and  born  in  iniquity," 
— a  subject  of  God's  wrath,  and  deserving  eternal  perdition;  for  her  earliest 
recollection  of  her  father  and  mother  was  that  they  were  Universahsts,  BO 
that  though  outwardly  surrounded,  as  that  ever- to-be-remembered  "sweet 
home"  was,  by  the  teachings  of  God's  eternal  vengeance,  Universahsm  was 
the  vital  atmosphere  within. 

Andover  is  not  far  from  the  shadow  of  Bunker  Hill,  and  Sarah  Mer- 
rill was  introduced  to  this  world  of  shade  and  sunshine  one  year  (lacking 
three  days— June  20th,  1824)  before  the  laying  of  the  corner-stone  of  that 
historic  monument.  Mothers  did  not  remain  at  home  for  babies  in  those 
days,  so  we  can  record  Sarah  as  making  her  first  public  effort  on  that  great 
day.  We  can  scarce  call  it  her  maiden  speech,  but,  with  propriety,  can  say 
it  was  her  first ;  for,  with  distress  to  her  mother,  her  voice  was  heard  far 
above  Daniel  Webster's,  who  on  that  occasion  delivered  one  of  his  im- 
mortal addresses. 

When  we  say  that  the  home  of  Isaiah  Men-ill  was  a  home  for  the  min- 
isters, do  not  imagine  that  the  only  desire  the  clergy  had  to  drift  that  way 
was  because  of  the  bounty  of  his  table.  He  was  a  Universalist,  and  the 
bread  of  life  to  him  was  the  Scriptures  and  the  few  books  then  published 
which  inculcated  our  blessed  faith;  and  he  loved  to  talk  about  them,  and  the 
clergy  enjoyed  his  ability  to  do  so.  And  this  little  daughter  would  sit  with 
one  hand  on  her  father's  knee,  intently  looking  him  in  the  face,  and  mentally 
drinking  in  all  he  or  they  said.  Old  Father Whittemore  once  remarked:  "If 
that  child  were  a  boy,  we  would  make  a  minister  of  him."  She  immediately 
turned  her  innocent  face  to  the  reverend  father  and  said:  "Why  can't  a 
little  girl  tell  the  folks  that  God  is  going  to  save  the  big  children  and  the 
little  ones  too?"     Mr.  Whittemore  gave  one  of  his  hearty  laughs,  and  face- 

t'ously  "gave  it  up"  by  telling  the  child  to  ask  Bro.  Streeter. 
30 


458  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

It  is  proverbial  that  girls  never  adhere  to  their  ideal  plans  of  mar- 
riage. We  do  not  proclaim  this  as  against  our  loyal,  true,  inconstant  sex, 
but  to  say  that  Sarah  Merrill  did  just  what  she  always  said  she  would  do — 
marry  a  Universalist.  And  so  Rev.  Alfred  Barnes  and  Sarah  Merrill  became 
one,  with  a  united  determination  to  hve  in  the  spirit  of  our  generous 
faith ;  and,  to-day,  after  a  married  life  of  thirty-five  years,  they  are  working 
together  hand  in  hand,  cheered,  sustained  and  blest  by  the  joys  of  that 
trust  and  faith,  that  God  will  work  all  things  for  good. 

About  1845,  on  account  of  ill  health,  Mr.  Barnes  was  obliged  to  retire 
from  the  ministiy  for  a  few  years  and  engage  in  secular  pursuits.  After  a 
little  more  than  two  years,  we  find  our  friends  in  Woonsocket,  R.  I.,  where 
Mrs.  Barnes  says:  "We  enjoyed  the  preaching  of  Rev.  John  Boyden,  and 
our  memoiy  of  him  and  his  parish  is  most  lasting  and  tender."  "Do  you 
wonder,"  she  continues,  "that  I  have  always  retained  a  love  for  our  church 
work,  after  living  under  the  spiritual  influence  of  the  preaching  of  Rev.  John 
Boyden,  and  the  companionship  of  Latimer  Ballon,  our  model  Sunday-school 
superintendent  ?  " 

In  1850  they  removed  to  Wisconsin,  and  in  1858  to  Peoria,  111.,  where 
they  enjoyed,  and  were  spiritually  lifted  up  by,  the  ministrations  of  Revs. 
Daniel  M.  Reed,  Holden  R.  Nye,  and  Royal  H.  Pullman.  "It  was  here," 
Mrs.  Barnes  says,  "in  the  Peoria  society,  that  was  developed  within  me  the 
active  zeal  in  society  work  which  has  been  of  incalculable  benefit  to  me  as  a 
minister's  wife  (since  Mr.  Barnes  has  resumed  the  ministry),  also  in  my  own 
ministiy.  I  count  my  Peoria  days  as  ten  years  of  the  most  active  labor  of 
my  life.  I  never  have  been  and  never  can  be  to  any  other  society  what  I 
was  to  that,  because  the  conditions  will  never  be  the  same.  I  was  then  in 
my  prime;  but  now  I  must  say,  though  the  spirit  is  willing,  the  flesh  is 
weak." 

Mrs.  Barnes's  whole  life  had  been  consecrated  to  our  church;  she  had 
studied  the  Scriptures  as  few  have  done  outside  of  the  ministiy;  and  those 
who  advised  her  to  enter  the  ministry  were  those  who  knew  what  her 
life  had  been.  In  1808  they  removed  to  Bradford,  HI.,  and  Mr.  Barnes  com- 
menced preaching.     In  1870  he  received  a  call  from  Earlville,  HI.,  where 


SARAH    M.    BARNES.  459 

they  enjoyed  a  very  pleasant  and  successful  pastorate  of  four  years,  and 
that  people  always  speak  of  them  with  tenderness  and  respect. 

In  May,  1874,  Mr.  Barnes  received  and  accepted  a  call  to  the  parish  in 
Lawrence,  Kansas.  In  the  then  unsettled  condition  of  the  parish,  it  was 
thought  very  desirable  that  it  should  not  long  remain  without  a  pastor,  and 
as  Mr.  Barnes  could  not  close  his  labors  in  Earlville  before  the  first  of  Sep- 
tember, it  was  the  unanimous  wish  of  the  parish  that  Mrs.  Barnes  should 
act  as  a  sort  of  John  the  Baptist.  Mrs.  Barnes  says,  "I  think  that  time  the 
most  momentous  of  my  life,  and  I  hardly  know  to  this  day  how  I  dared 
accept  the  weighty  responsibility  of  that  call." 

After  earnest  solicitations  from  her  friends,  Mrs.  Barnes  asked  and  re- 
ceived from  the  Kansas  Convention  in  1875  license  to  preach.  Since  that 
time  she  has  traveled  many  thousand  miles,  and  preached  in  thirty  different 
places;  supplied  the  Seneca  pulpit  for  nearly  a  year,  once  a  month,  and 
Junction  City  every  Sunday  for  over  a  year.  Besides  her  preaching,  she  has 
written  many  temperance  lectures  and  given  numberless  talks  on  that  im- 
portant subject ;  attended  funerals  wherever  called ;  and  solemnized  marriages, 
the  Kansas  law  permitting  licentiates  to  perform  the  marriage  ceremony. 

I  have  received  a  letter  from  Junction  City,  written  by  a  lady  of  great 
culture  (Mrs.  Humphrey),  from  which  I  will  make  quotations.  I  wish 
I  had  space  to  print  the  entire  letter : 

"During  the  four  years  which  Mrs.  Barnes  has  passed  in  Junction  City, 
she  has  by  her  earnest  and  sympathetic  nature,  her  dignified  and  womanly 
bearing,  won  the  respect  and  esteem  of  all. 

"Her  sermons  are  forcible  and  logical,  and  clearly  explain  the  text:  they 
inform  the  understanding,  but  in  a  manner  which  affects  the  heart :  tiny  arc 
replete  with  metaphysical  speculations,  which,  while  they  please  the  more 
cultivated,  are  so  simplified  as  to  be  for  the  most  part  capable  of  com- 
prehension by  the  most  humble  of  her  congregation. 

"In  the  combination  and  arrangement  of  her  words  she  adopts  a  mosi 
graceful  and  natural  style,  and  her  sentences,  though  brightened  by  adorn, 
ment,  are  not  excessively  ornate.  The  manner  of  her  delivery  is  excellent, 
her  dignified  and  pleasing  personal  appearance  adding  greatly  to  the  effect. 
Mrs.  Barnes  particularly  excels  in  her  discourses  on  'Home' and  'Woman':  and 


460  0UR   WOMAN    WOEKEBS. 

her  own  character  affords  a  most  cogent  refutation  of  the  argument  so  fre- 
quently used  against  ladies  engaging  in  any  of  the  professsions,  that  'the 
woman  who  oversteps  the  hounds  of  her  sphere  is  unworthy  to  remain  in  it.' 
Her  own  personnel  and  the  ahility  displayed  in  the  management  of  her 
household  affairs  render  her  a  model  of  domestic  virtue. 

"Although  possessed  of  scholarly  attainments  hy  no  means  inconsiderable, 
Mrs.  Barnes  is  no  book-worm.  Her  views  upon  all  important  topics  are 
characterized  by  soundness  and  liberality,  and  she  manifests  a  praise- 
worthy interest  in  and  lends  her  influence  to  aU  the  good  projects  of  the  day. 

"But  most  of  all  in  her  talent  for  organization  and  in  her  executive 
ability  the  eminent  and  unusual  power  of  Mrs.  Barnes  prominently  appears. 
It  is  to  these  and  her  happy  social  accomplishments,  as  much  as  to  the 
excellence  of  her  sermons,  that  our  church  in  Junction  City  owes  its  con- 
tinued existence  as  well  as  organization." 

Her  husband,  Bev.  A.  Barnes,  a  devoted  and  successful  minister,  writes: 
"My  success  is  due  largely,  if  not  wholly,  to  the  efficient  aid  which  has  been 
rendered  by  my  good  wife.  In  all  outside  work  that  has  proved  eminently 
successful  Mrs.  Barnes  has  given  her  undivided  attention,  which  has  not 
only  greatly  lightened  my  cares  and  burdens,  but  tended  to  make  my  minis- 
try a  success,  if  success  it  can  be  called;  therefore,  in  all  ways,  as  a  true 
wife  and  helpmate,  I  expect  to  die,  if  not  in  debt  to  my  fellow-men,  greatly 
indebted  to  her.  In  this  instance  the  vine  has  changed  its  legitimate  order, 
and  clings  to  the  sterner  qualities  in  true  womanhood. " 

Besides  her  preaching  and  lecturing  on  temperance,  Mrs.  Barnes'  letters 
while  acting  as  nurse  in  our  hospitals  during  our  civil  war  were  read  with 
great  interest  by  all  her  friends,  but  especially  by  the  relatives  of  the  boys 
in  blue.  She  left  Vicksburg  against  her  will,  a  short  time  before  its  sur- 
render. When  Gov.  Yates  called  for  nurses  she  was  the  first  to  respond. 
She  was  entertaining  a  few  friends  at  her  tea-table — Rev.  D.  M.  Reed  and 
lady,  with  others — when  a  loud  and  sudden  ringing  of  the  door-bell  startled 
them.  Hearts  all  over  the  country  in  those  days  tried  to  be  prepared  for 
alarms  or  sad  news.  The  bell  was  answered,  and  the  cry  was  for  nurses. 
"When  am  I  wanted?"  asked  Mrs.  Barnes.  "In  two  hours  and  a  half  yen 
must  be  ready  if  you  go  with  us."     Of  course  it   seemed   impossible,    but 


HA  UAH    M.    BARNES.  401 

nothing  was  impossible  with  our  women  in  those  days;  and,  although  tears 
fell  from  all  eyes,  the  tumble  lingers  of  the  guests  had  picked  up  and  packed 
the  needed  wherewithal,  and,  at  the  end  of  the  time  set  for  starting,  the 
company  at  the  tea-table  sent  her  away  in  tears  but  with  blessings. 

Rev.  K.  H.  Pullman,  of  Baltimore,  Md.,  communicates  the  following: 
"I  took  charge  of  the  Peoria  church  in  1867.  Among  my  earliest  acquaint- 
ances were  Brother  and  Sister  Barnes.  I  soon  found  that  Peoria  was  full 
of  praises  for  Mrs.  Barnes,  on  account  of  her  noble  and  heroic  work  for  the 
cause  of  the  Union,  her  instant  and  forward  action  in  all  public  meetings 
to  provide  ways  and  means  to  care  for  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  her  per- 
sonal supervision  of  much  of  this  work,  and  her  volunteer  service  in  the 
hospitals.  Her  quick  intelligence,  womanly  deportment,  the  graces  of  her 
warm  heart,  her  dignified  bearing,  her  zeal,  and  her  faithful  work,  gave  her 
great  prominence  in  the  city.  I  soon  found  that  the  bitteresl  orthodox 
prejudices  had  been  greatly  overcome  by  her  devotion  and  her  Christian 
bearing,  and  that  our  church  was  honored,  and  its  name  lifted  into  high 
respect  in  the  city,  through  the  influence  of  her  name.  I  felt  a  profound 
respect  for  her,  because  that  never  for  a  moment  did  she  waver  in  her  de- 
votion to  our  church.  Honored  herself,  she  was  made  glad  to  use  her  influ- 
ence in  honoring  her  church.  She  did  not,  like  many  others,  grow  giddy  by 
public  applause  and  seek  the  popular  churches.  Alas,  how  many  of  our 
people,  when  they  have  arisen  from  adversity  into  wealth  and  fame,  have 
turned  coldly  upon  the  humble  church  in  which  they  were  reared,  and  given 
their  money  and  influence  to  more  popular  churches ! 

"She  was  entirely  consecrated  to  Universalism — had  a  deep  love  for 
the  name — and  I  respect  her  the  more  for  that  also.  In  the  'Women's 
Home  Mission,'  an  institution  of  our  church,  she  was  always  an  active  and 
efficient  worker.  In  Sunday-school  work  she  was  especially  at  home.  My 
particular  attention  was  called  to  her  intellectual  powers  by  an  essay  on 
"Doctrinal  Teaching,"  which  she  was  appointed  to  write,  and  which  on  a  pub- 
lic occasion  she  read.  I  said  at  once,  "That  woman  ought  to  preach":  and 
from  thenceforth  I  sought  to  move  her  to  give  up  her  life  to  the  work  o(  the 
Universalist  ministry.  Bro.  Barnes,  on  account  of  ill  health,  had  given  up 
the  ministry,  to  which  he  had  been  ordained  years  before.     His  health  now 


4(J2  OUE   WOMAN    WORKEES. 

having  been  partially  restored,  I  sought  (not  in  vain)  to  urge  him  to  re-enter 
the  ministry,  as,  free  from  all  family  cares,  he  could  have  the  help  of  his 
wife.  I  believed  he  could  do  a  grand  work  for  our  church  by  re-entering  the 
pulpit,  helped  and  encouraged  by  a  wife  so  earnest,  devoted,  and  willing, 
and  anxious.  So  I  lost  my  right-hand  man  in  my  work  in  Peoria,  and  one 
of  the  leading  and  most  efficient  women  of  the  church.  Never  was  an  ex- 
minister  so  efficient,  warm-hearted  and  true  a  layman  as  Bro.  Barnes ;  and 
never  had  such  a  man  a  truer  wife." 

Mrs.  Barnes  thus  describes  how  she  learned  that  she  had  received  a  call 
to  preach,  "A  clear-headed  Quaker  lady  asked  me  once  to  give  my  experience 
of  my  '  call  from  God '  to  preach.  She  was  very  much  shocked  when  I  re- 
plied I  was  not  sure  I  had  received  a  call  from  God — that  had  I  been  satisfied 
with  the  test  of  an  aged  minister,  to  be  satisfied  if  the  people  had  a  call  to 
hear  me,  I  might  have  accepted  that.  '  Why! '  said  she,  'don't  thee  like  thy 
mission?  Isn't  thy  heart  in  it?'  On  replying  that  I  was  consecrated,  heart 
and  soul  and  body,  to  the  work,  that  I  enjoyed  it  better  than  aught  else  on 
earth,  that  were  it  not  for  my  household  duties  I  would  go  out  into  the 
highways  and  by-ways,  asking  for  neither  purse  nor  scrip,  trusting  in  God  for 
what  I  should  eat  and  drink  and  the  wherewithal  to  be  clothed,  she  was 
satisfied,  and  assured  me  my  call  was  in  my  own  heart,  and  she  bade  me 
God  speed  in  my  mission." 


MAEY  T.   CLAEK 


Was  born  in  Sydd,  Kent,  England,  December,  1814,  in  which  place  she 
received  a  common  education,  and  from  that  time  on  has  been  a  close 
student.  Her  parents  being  Episcopalians,  she  was  educated  in  that  faith, 
and  for  years  never  questioned  the  creed  of  her  parents.  At  the  age  of 
twenty-one  she  was  prostrated  by  a  severe  illness,  and  became  partially  par- 
alyzed, and  for  seven  long  years  was  confined  to  her  bed.  During  these 
years  of  illness  she  read  every  book  that  could  be  purchased  or  borrowed. 


MAJtY    T.    CLARK.  W6 

She  became  especially  interested  in  theological  works  and  works  of  mental 
philosophy.  Towards  the  last  of  her  illness  she  became  interested  in  the 
subject  of  baptism,  and  finally  decided  that  immersion  was  "God's  way,"  and 
she  received  no  real  content  of  spirit  until  slit-  had  so  far  recovered  that  she 
could  with  safety  be  immersed.  She  observed  the  rite  in  London,  when  she 
was  thirty-three  years  old.  She  soon  became  so  much  improved  that  she 
w.is  able  to  take  a  school  in  London,  and  taught  for  some  time  there. 

She  came  to  America  in  1851,  and  soon  connected  herself  with  the  Bap- 
tist church,  thinking,  I  suppose,  as  she  agreed  with  them  on  baptism,  that 
in  other  respects  her  faith  would  harmonize  with  the  creed  of  that  church. 
She  says,  "I  could  not  stay  in  it,  and  left  from  inability  to  believe  the  cruel, 
unjust,  unreasonable  doctrines."  After  leaving  the  Baptist  church  she  was  for 
a  number  of  years  in  close  connection  with  the  "Congregationalist  Friends, "' 
by  some  called  "Progressive  Friends,"  an  old  organized  and  recorded  body, 
gathered  in  Pennsylvania  about  sixty  years  or  more  ago.  Wendell  Phillips, 
Lucretia  Mott.and  others  like  them,  sympathized  with  them.  She  was  first 
licensed,  afterwards  ordained  as  elder,  after  which  she  solemnized  marria- 
ges. Mrs.  Clark  says,  "I  respect  the  requirements  of  churches  too  much 
not  to  conform  to  their  laws." 

Mrs.  Clark's  maiden  name  was  Thomas.  She  was  married  in  1863  to 
Dr.  Clark,  of  Williainsport,  Warren  Co.,  Lad. 

Referring  to  the  first  years  of  the  above  account,  Mrs.  Clark  says,  "1  en- 
dured what  I  can  only  call  a  great  fight.  I  was  a  full  believer  in  hell  and  all 
its  horrors,  and  wonder  to-day  why  1  did  not  lose  faith  in  the  all-wise 
and  merciful  God.  My  whole  being  hungered  and  thirsted  for  love."  Un- 
doubtedly if  Mrs.  Clark  had  not  possessed  great  reasoning  powers,  and  pray- 
erfully read  the  Scriptures,  she  would  be  where  many  another  religiously- 
sensitive  organized  woman  is — looking  out  through  the  iron  bars  of  an  insane 
asylum,  crying  to  her  heavenly  Father  for  mercy!  When  ten  years  ago  Mrs. 
Clark  settled  in  Dublin,  Ind.,  she  found  herself,  as  to  the  leading  points,  a 
full  Universalist,  but  says,  "Not  because  I  had  heard  it  preached,  or  read 
books  on  our  blessed  faith,  but  from  Bible  study  and  soul-conviction,  that 
was  as  clear  as  the  noonday  sun." 

In  1875  she  was  fellowshiped,  and  her  ordination  at  the  hands  of  the 


464  OUE    WOMAN    WOKKEKS. 

body  of  Friends  was  recognized,  or  she  would  have  been  re-ordained. 

"Out  of  Egypt  and  the  wilderness  into  Canaan!  That  is  all  to  which  I 
can  compare  the  change  I  have  experienced.  To-day  I  am  a  full  believer 
in  a  full  salvation,  and  at  sixty-six  years  of  age  a  hard  worker  and  a  happy 
woman." 

Mrs.  Clark  is  not  a  college  graduate,  nor  did  she  ever  read  theology  with 
a  clergyman.  She  is  a  fine  Bible  scholar,  a  good  theologian,  a  close  reasoner 
and  a  very  ready  speaker,  and  never  uses  notes. 

In  1878  she  preached  the  Occasional  Sermon  at  Fort  Wayne,  Ind. 
She  is  a  member  of  the  Committee  of  Fellowship,  Ordination  and  Discipline. 


SARAH    MARIA    PERKINS. 

Sarah  Maria  Clinton  was  bom  in  Otsego,  N.  Y.,  April  23,  1824.  She 
was  the  seventh  of  a  family  of  nine  children,  and  one  of  six  daughters.  At 
a  very  early  age  Sarah  exhibited  a  natural  love  for  out  of  door  sports,  and  at 
the  same  time  developed  a  great  fondness  for  books  and  study,  and  was 
always  an  apt  scholar.  She  remembers  a  prize  of  one  dollar  which  she  once 
gained  by  "spelling  down"  the  entire  school.  Tbe  strife  ran  high,  even 
among  the  witnessing  parents.  She  was  one  of  the  youngest  pupils,  but  she 
carried  off  the  dollar,  and  she  informs  me  that  no  subsequent  triumph  ever 
gave  her  the  sincere  pleasure  of  that  success. 

At  the  age  of  ten  her  father  died,  leaving  no  property,  and  the  dearly 
beloved  widow-mother  struggled  hard  to  keep  the  wolf  from  the  door.  She 
first  trained  her  children  to  cherish  a  firm  faith  in  God,  and  in  the  triumph 
of  good  over  evil.  She  set  them  examples  of  industry  and  economy,  by  car- 
rying her  burdens  cheerfully,  and  denying  herself  first.  She  would  say,  "Self- 
reliance,  my  dear  children,  with  habits  of  industry  and  a  (inn  trust  in  God, 
will  carry  you  through  safely. "     And  the  dear  old  mother,  with  a  heart  full 


SARAH  M.  PERKINS. 


SAltAII    MARIA    PERKINS.  405 

of  kindness  to  every  thing  God  had  made,  lived  to  see  her  children  carrying 
out  the  principles  she  had  so  lovingly  inculcated. 

Sarah  continued  to  study  for  the  purpose  of  becoming  a  teacher,  think- 
ing at  that  time  that  a  district  school  teacher  stood  upon  almost  the  highest 
pinnacle  that  any  woman  could,  with  propriety,  attempt  to  reach.  She  said 
to  one  of  her  intimate  teacher  friends  one  day,  when  a  little  desponding,  "It 
is  all  a  mistake  that  God  made  me  a  girl,  for  if  1  were  a  man  1  could  and 
would  preach."  "And  what  would  you  preach?"  the  friend  inpuired.  "I 
would  preach  the  triumph  of  good  over  evil,"  was  the  reply 

At  fifteen  she  became  a  member  of  the  church  and  a  Sunday-school 
teacher,  and  at  eighteen,  in  Otsego,  at  Hope  Mills,  in  her  own  district,  she 
began  her  work  as  a  school  teacher.  With  her  hard-earned  money  in  her 
pocket,  she  starts  for  the  old  academy  in  South  Adams,  and  she  continued, 
in  this  piece  meal  way,  teaching  Summers  and  attending  school  Winters, 
until  she  acquired  a  fine  education.  Thirty  years  ago  there  were  no  colleges 
for  girls,  save  at  Oberlin,  Ohio,  while  for  boys,  colleges  have  existed  six  hun- 
dred years.  A  friend  writes  me  that  she  was  a  most  successful  teacher  in 
Savoy  and  Cheshire,  Massachusetts,  where  she  had  pupils  in  algebra  and 
the  highest  English  branches,  down  to  the  alphabet,  a  school  of  sixty  chil- 
dren in  one  room,  and  governed  with  rare  executive  ability. 

In  December,  1817,  she  was  married  to  Rev.  Oren  Perkins,  who  was 
pastor  of  the  church  in  Bernardston,  Mass.  She  was  a  pastor's  wife  three 
years  in  that  place,  several  years  in  Wilmington,  for  a  time  in  Shirley,  and 
twelve  years  in  Winchester,  N.  H.  The  rest  from  teaching  and  the  various 
pleasant  duties  of  a  pastor's  wife,  and  the  care  of  little  children,  helped  the 
years  to  glide  too  rapidly  and  too  joyously  by,  at  least  so  feared  Mrs.  Per- 
kins, when  the  reverses  came,  loss  of  health  to  the  husband,  and  loss  of  the 
savings  of  many  years  of  earnest  work.  The  fruit  of  Mrs.  Perkins's  youth- 
ful out  of  doors  roving  served  her  well  at  Cooperstown,  where  we  find  them 
after  their  adversities. 

The  family  assumed  charge  of  a  large  seminary  in  this  beautiful  and 
attractive  place.  For  several  years  Mrs.  Perkins  taught  classes,  studied 
French,  took  charge  of  one  bundled  persons,  looked  after  eight  servants,  and 
declares  to-day  that  those  busy  years  were  the  most  profitable   of  her  life. 


466  OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

At  this  time  a  brother's  family  of  little  children  were  left  without  a  mother, 
and  she  took  the  four  half-orphans  into  her  own  home,  looking  carefully 
after  their  welfare,  until  other  homes  were  provided.  At  length  the  little 
daughters  are  becoming  young  ladies,  and  the  mother  remembers  the  meager- 
ness  of  her  own  opportunities,  and  desires  a  better  future  for  them,  but  the 
purse,  as  of  old,  is  nearly  empty. 

"What  can  I  do  now  to  earn  a  little  money?"  was  the  question  which 
came  to  the  willingly  toiling  woman's  lips.  The  Boston  Universalist  Pub- 
lishing House  offered  prizes  for  the  best  Sunday-school  book.  "Alice  and 
her  Friends,"  by  Mrs.  Perkins,  took  one  of  the  prizes.  Mrs.  Perkins  wrote 
other  books.  One,  "Eugene  Cooper,"  has  gone  through  many  editions.  A 
lecture  was  thought  of,  written  and  given.  The  children  were  educated. 
One  of  them  graduated  at  Glenwood  Seminary.  The  second,  Florence,  took 
the  first  honors  of  her  class  at  Vassar  College,  at  her  graduation,  and  is 
now  a  teacher  in  Greek  and  Latin  in  the  High  School  at  Burlington,  Vt. 
The  youngest,  Emma,  also  took  a  four  years'  course  at  Vassar,  and  one  day 
the  family  were  surprised  by  a  telegram,  addressed,  "Miss  Florence.  You 
are  not  the  only  Valedictorian ;  send  congratulations  to  Emma."  A  return 
telegram  went  over  the  wires,  "The  King  is  dead;  long  live  the  King."  This 
youngest  daughter  is  now  a  teacher  of  Latin  in  Cleveland,  Ohio. 

To  Mrs.  Perkins  the  old  desire  to  preach  returned  as  the  fledgelings  left 
the  home  nest,  and  she  received  license  to  preach  in  Illinois,  while  working 
for  the  Woman's  Missionary  Association,  and  was  ordained  at  West  Concord, 
Vt.,  February  13,  1877. 

Mrs.  Perkins  has  also  been  active  in  the  work  of  the  National  Woman's 
Christian  Temperance  Union.  She  has  been  employed  to  give  lectures  under 
its  auspices.  Indeed,  she  is  everywhere  an  earnest  worker  in  the  vineyard, 
ever  ready  to  help  the  less  fortunate,  and  is  a  cheerful,  practical  Christian 
woman.  She  possesses  a  faith  in  unseen  realities,  as  clear  as  the  noonday 
sun,  and  can  say  with  one  of  old,  "I  know  that  my  Bedeemer  liveth."  She 
is  a  calm,  self-possessed  speaker,  entirely  womanly  in  her  manner.  Her  lan- 
guage is  choice,  transparent,  forcible,  and  as  a  preacher  she  ranks  well 
among  the  women  who  occupy  pulpits  in  our  church.  Mrs.  Perkins's  prose 
is  much  superior  to  her  poetry,  but  "My  Sisters"   is  worthy  of  any  author. 


MARY   J.    DE  LONG.  467 

It  would  be  easy  to  enrich  these  pages  with  copious  prose  and  poetical 
passages  from  the  writings  of  Mrs.  Perkins,  and  it  scarcely  seems  just  to  her 
worth,  to  be  compelled,  by  the  pressure  on  my  pen,  to  resist  the  temptation. 
She  is  one  of  the  most  brilliant  of  our  writers. 

In  1880,  Mr.  Perkins's  health  began  to  fail,  a  despondency  settled  down 
upon  his  spirits  which  the  active  exertions  of  his  friends  could  not  dispel.  A 
Western  trip  was  taken,  believing  it  would  benefit  him,  and  he  was  engaged 
to  assist  Rev.  Dr.  Hanson  on  The  New  Covenant,  but  suddenly,  and  under 
circumstances  of  great  sadness,  he  dropped  the  shroud  of  clay,  leaving  his 
wife  and  daughters  heartbroken.  But  the  strong  faith  of  Mrs.  Perkins  in 
the  overruling  providence  of  her  Heavenly  Father  sustains  her,  while  she 
pursues  her  pilgrimage  to  its  appointed  end. 


MAEY    J.    De  LONG. 

Abram  Swart  and  his  wife  Lucinda  (Arnold),  the  father  and  mother  of 
Mrs.  De  Long,  were  residing  in  Bethany,  Penn.,  when  the  subject  of  this 
sketch  was  born  in  March,  1831.  The  indomitable  will  of  the  father  filled 
their  home  with  plenty.  Mr.  Swart,  in  his  youth,  had  been  somewhat  in- 
doctrinated into  the  faith  of  the  Dutch  Reformed  Church.  Mrs.  Swart  was 
from  a  Baptist  family,  but  they  both  quite  early  in  their  married  life  be- 
came converted  to   Universalism,  and   lived  and  died   strong  in  the  faith. 

It  was  here  in  this  quiet  little  hamlet,  known  to  all  the  country  around 
as  the  "Glass  Works,"  that  Mary  passed  her  childhood.  The  town  consist*  d 
of  the  "Works,"  of  the  houses  in  which  the  proprietors  and  the  workmen 
lived,  the  store,  the  blacksmith  shop,  saw  mill  and  grist  mill.  "It  was  skirt- 
ed on  the  outside  by  a  few  poor,  stony,  hilly  farms,  which  supplied  barely 
enough  to  feed  the  community.  Dark  and  sombre  hemlock  and  beech  forests 
spread  in  every  direction,  beautiful  little  lakes  lav  hack  on  the  hills  hidden  in 
these  forests,  and  deer  and  fish  were  plenty.     The  glass-blowers  were  Ger- 


468 


OUR   WOMAN   WOHKEES. 


maris.  There  was  no  meeting-house,  but  up  on  the  West  hill,  nearly  a  mile 
from  the  'Works,'  on  a  bare,  rocky  plateau,  sat  the  school-house,  'a  ragged 
beggar,  sunning.'  Here  meetings  were  held  whenever  a  minister  could  be 
found  to  preach.  Sometimes  during  the  inclemency  of  Winter  the  meetings 
were  held  in  Mr.  Swarfs  house.  Here  preached  George  Rogers,  of  sainted 
memory,  S.  P.  Landers,  and  Wm.  M.  De  Long,  now  among  the  immortals." 

Says  Mrs.  De  Long,  "To  the  careful  and  conscientious  training  which  I 
received  in  our  blessed  faith  from  my  parents,  I  owe  entirely  the  joy  and 
comfort  it  has  been  to  me  in  all  my  later  life. " 

Mr.  Swart  was  elected  to  a  public  office  which  necessitated  his  removal 
to  Honesdale.  He  immediately  put  Mary  into  a  private  school,  under  the 
control  of  the  Presbyterians,  though  it  was  strictly  private,  no  one  being  re- 
sponsible except  the  lady  who  taught  it.  In  reading  the  description  of  the 
barbarous  treatment  this  child  received,  I  think  it  can  but  lead  mothers  to 
realize  the  danger  of  sending  their  children  to  schools  where  their  own  blessed 
faith  is  not  taught,  and  it  should  impress  them  to  use  every  power,  if  obliged 
to  send  their  children  away  from  home,  to  send  them  to  our  own  schools. 

"The  town  and  school,"  says  Mrs.  De  Long,  "was  ravaged  every  Winter 
by  a  '  revival,'  more  or  less  disastrous  to  its  legitimate  interests;  and  I  was 
made  to  feel  myself  an  outcast,  an  infidel,  in  every  way  which  bigoted  school- 
girl ingenuity  could  devise.  When  I  look  back  to  it  now,  I  wonder  how 
I  endured  it,  and  why  I  did  not  resent  it  in  such  a  way  as  to  put  a  stop  to  it 
one  way  or  another.  I  have  always  felt  that  if  the  school  had  not  depended 
upon  public  patronage,  and  my  tuition  bills  had  not  been  large  and  promptly 
paid,  I  should  have  found  it  quite  beyond  endurance.  But  my  teacher  for 
her  own  interest  stood  between  me  and  downright  persecution.  My  father 
took  a  careful  and  close  supervision  of  my  instruction  in  Bible  language,  and, 
so  far  as  he  understood  it  himself,  in  Scripture  exegesis,  and  by  that  means  I 
was  brought  safely  through  it  all.  But  when  I  remember  how  near  I  came 
to  the  shipwreck  of  all  the  grand  and  holy  truths  which  have  so  blessed 
my  later  years,  and  so  comforted  my  bitter  sorrows,  I  have  no  words  to  ex- 
2)ress  my  gratitude  and  affection  to  my  dear  and  honored  father,  that  he  did 
so  wisely,  and  lovingly  teach  me  the  principles  of  his  own  happy  and  precious 
faith.     My  parents  did  much  forme,  sacrificed  for  me  in  many  ways,  edu- 


MAKY   .1.     DB  LONG.  169 

oated  and  cared  for  rnc  in  every  way  they  could,  but  for  nothing  they  did  for 
me  am  I  so  thankful  to-day — have  I  been  so  thankful  in  the  days  that  are 
passed — as  that  they  taught  me  the  distinctive  doctrines  of  Universalism, 
and  so  grounded  and  established  me  in  them,  as  that  they  have  become  a 
part  of  my  life." 

In  1858,  Mary,  with  her  sister  Kose,  (Rose  C.  Swart,  now  of  the  State 
Normal  School,  at  Oshkosh,  Wis.),  removed  to  Racine,  Wis.  Nearly  ten 
years  she  was  engaged  in  teaching  in  the  public  schools.  In  1869  she  taught 
in  .Jefferson  Liberal  Institute  with  Prof.  Elmore  Chase. 

Mrs.  De  Long's  reply,  when  I  asked  for  the  correct  data  of  her  preach- 
ing, was,  "I  have  preached  ever  since  I  could  make  'pot-hooks'  in  my  copy- 
book." Her  brother  Willie,  who  went  home  forty  years  since,  was  her 
constant  companion,  and  when,  as  a  little  girl,  she  told  him  of  the  longings 
of  her  almost  infant  spirit  to  preach,  he  woidd  most  sarcastically  say,  '"You 
can't  preach;"  but  when  she  would  produce  the  little  sermons  she  had  pre- 
pared, he,  with  a  good  deal  of  child-dignity  would  take  them,  making  no  ob- 
jection to  her  writing  the  sermons,  but  the  preaching  he  reserved  for  himself, 
and  when  sometimes  she  insisted  that  she  woidd  preach  as  is  her  spirit  to 
do  now,  he  most  indignantly  would  remark,  "What  do  you  say  that  for? 
You  know  girls  can't  preach!  " 

But  not  until  she  went  to  Jefferson  had  she  seriously  given  any  thought 
to  becoming  a  minister.  Incidentally,  to  Rev.  E.  Garfield,  she  made  the  n  - 
mark,  "All  my  life-long  desire  has  been  to  preach  UniversaJism."  His  imme- 
diate reply  was,  "Why  don't  you  preach,  then?"  "How?  When?  Where?" 
"Next  Sunday,  in  my  pulpit.  Write  a  sermon,  bring  it  to  me  and  permit 
me  to  criticise  it."  Mary  Swart  had  studied  the  Bible  and  theology  all  her 
life,  had  read  the  standard  works  in  our  literature  until  the  points  of  doe- 
trine  were  as  familiar  as  household  words;  she  had  been  educated  and 
grounded  in  the  faith,  and  yet  with  diffidence  she  contemplated  the  work  of 
writing  a  sermon,  while  the  question,  "Why  don't  you  preach?"  sounded  as 
music  all  through  that  sleepless  night,  and  she  said  over  and  over  to  herself, 
"Possibly  I  might  preach,"  and  in  the  morning  she  decided  to  try 

In  May,  1869,  she  preached  her  sennon  in  Rev.  E.  Garfield's  pulpit,  as 
she  had  been  invited  to  do.     She  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  Wisconsin 


470  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

Convention  in  June,  1869,  and  preached  in  Stoughton  and  other  places 
through  that  year.  In  April,  1871,  she  was  married  to  Rev.  Wm.  M.  De  Long, 
of  Binghamton,  N.  Y.  Mr.  De  Long  was  then  in  the  employ  of  the  North 
Branch  Association  of  Universahsts,  which  included  three  counties  in  Penn- 
sylvania. She  was  ordained  in  Speedville,  N.  Y.,  in  1876.  During  the  year 
she  and  her  husband  rode  more  than  three  thousand  miles  in  a  private  car- 
riage, outside  of  public  conveyances,  and  preached  at  least  five  sermons  a 
week,  besides  attending  an  incredible  number  of  funerals  and  several  wed- 
dings. Mr.  De  Long,  whose  health  had  been  failing  for  more  than  a  year, 
soon  utterly  broke  down,  and  they  were  obliged  to  return  to  their  home  in 
Binghamton  for  rest  and  recuperation;  but  the  malady  was  too  deep,  and  they 
traveled  farther  into  the  country,  but  the  pure  mountain  air  made  no  change 
for  the  better.  Mrs.  De  Long  accepted  a  caU  to  preach  for  a  year,  but  at  the 
end  of  nine  months  they  were  obliged  to  return  to  their  old  home,  where 
Mrs.  De  Long  devoted  aU  her  time  to  her  husband  until  his  death,  in  Octo- 
ber, 1877.  Is  it  a  surprise  that  after  six  years  of  constant  watching  by  the 
bedside  of  a  declining  loved  one,  the  care  and  grief  should  almost  strand  the 
health  of  Mrs.  De  Long?  Her  brother  says,  "Her  devotion  to  a  bed-ridden 
husband  for  six  long  years,  was  something  sublime.  It  was  the  hardest  task 
I  ever  knew  a  woman  to  endure." 

In  1878  she  went  to  Kansas  in  search  of  health  and  opportunity  to 
preach,  for  to  preach  Universalism  then  seemed  to  be  the  only  desire  left, 
and  she  writes,  "This  wish  unconquered  and  unconquerable,  sustained  me, 
upheld  me,  gave  me  something  to  live  for.  It  is  yet  the  one  supreme  pas- 
sion with  me.  May  the  good  Father  grant  his  grace  upon  me  and  upon  my 
labors,  that  I  may  be  a  humble '  instrument  for  good  in  so  great  a  cause." 

One  who  has  known  her  for  a  half  century  writes,  "Throughout  all  her 
life  of  fifty  years  she  has  ever  kept  her  duty  full  in  view,  and  made  her  life 
conform  to  it.  It  has  been  marked  by  conscientious  work,  and  has  been  one 
long  struggle  with  untoward  circumstances.  She  is  one  of  the  most  forgiv- 
ing of  women,  and  one  of  the  most  courageous." 

She  has  addressed  legislatures  and  other  large  bodies,  and  always  with 
the  dignity  and  self-poise  becoming  a  womanly  woman.  Another  friend 
writes,  "She  is  one  of   the  most  long-suffering,  faithful,  untiring,  devoted 


LUCIA     FIDELIA    VV.    GILLETTE.  471 

women  in  this  world.  With  a  highly  nervous  and  never  strong  constitution, 
she  has,  by  dint  of  a  sort  of  physical  wiriness,  and  by  force  of  a  heart  that 
never  beat  a  retreat,  fought  her  way  through  an  immense  amount  of  work, 
both  manual  and  mental.  With  only  small  means  at  her  command,  she  has 
always  been  generous  and  helpful  fco  others.  I  sometimes  think  her  head  is 
wonderful,  but  I  truly  think  her  heart  is  still  more  so.  bhe  has  one  of  the 
truest,  stoutest,  tenderest  hearts  that  ever  heat." 

Mr.  D.  Ostrander,  of  Milwaukee,  writes,  "Intellectually  Mrs.  De  Long 
is  the  peer  of  any  woman  in  the  West,  and  indeed  there  are  hut  few  men 
who  can  boast  a  better  culture,  or  clearer  and  more  vigorous  mental  percep- 
tions. In  the  pulpit  and  out  of  it  she  will  be  found  a  potential  factor  in  the 
reformatory  and  progressive  movements  that  in  the  near  future  are  to  possess 
with  an  ahsorbing  interest  the  active  thoughts  of  liberal  people." 


LUCIA    FIDELIA   W.    GILLETTE. 

The  grandparents  of  Lucia    Fidelia  Woolley  Gillette,  on  her  mother's 
side,  were  sturdy,  primitive  New  Englanders;  on  the  father's  side  of  English 
and  of  Huguenot  French  ancestry.     Mrs.  Gillette  so  much  resembled  he 
father's  mother  that  the  first  pet  name  given  her  was  "Grandma." 

Rev.  E.  N.  Woolley,  her  father,  was  of  Saxon  type,  six  feet  in  height, 
fair,  features  clear-cut  and  firm,  deep-set,  starry  blue  eyes,  and  his  daughter 
says,  "An  air  of  kingship  and  social  grace  always  attended  him." 

I  wrote  to  Mrs.  Gillette  for  facts  of  interest  in  her  life,  and  her  reply 
was,  "The  most  interesting  item  I  can  give  you,  excepting  my  ministry,  is 
that  I  was  born  under  the  shadow,  or  in  the  halo  of  genius,"  in  a  quiet  little 
rural  hamlet,  in  the  town  of  Nelson,  Madison  Co.,  New  York,  only  a  few 
nnles  from  Alderbrook  Cottage,  the  home  of  Fanny  Forrester." 

She  was  the  eldest  of  her  father's  family,  and,  from  her  first  smile 
to  his  last  breath,  he  and  she  were  confiding  friends'.  As  a  child,  her  early 
friends  write  me  that  she  was  very  beautiful,  and  at  a  very  early  age  read 


472  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

and  appreciated  the  books  intended  for  scholarly  people,  Mrs.  J.  G.  Jones, 
of  Utica.  N.  Y.,  daughter  of  Eev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  gives  the  following  descrip- 
tion of  her  when  recovering  from  a  fit  of  sickness,  soon  after  she  commenced 
writing  for  the  public : 

"I  remember  her  as  a  slender,  intellectual  looking  girl,  very  fair,  with 
large,  friendly  blue  eyes  beneath  a  full,  broad  forehead.  Her  head  was  large 
and  weU  covered  with  hght  brown,  wavy  hair,  put  back  plainly  but  loosely." 
Her  father  said  of  her  that  she  crept  around  books,  stumbled  over  books, 
when  learning  to  walk,  and  when  very  young  he  discovered  that  she  always 
carried  paper  and  pencil  with  her.  Her  favorite  way  of  composing,  however, 
was  to  first  sing  her  thoughts.  One  morning,  when  she  was  "putting  to 
rights"  things  about  him,  supposing  he  was  writing  a  sermon,  she  kept  on 
her  singing,  and  he  copied  as  she  sang.  When  she  stopped  singing,  he  looked 
up  and  asked,  "Is  there  any  more  of  that,  and  where  is  it?"  "Of  what?" 
"Of  that  poem  you  were  singing  to  yourself?"  And  in  imitation  of  a  habit 
of  his,  she  put  her  forefinger  to  her  head,  and  answered,  "here."  "Why, 
Grandma,  I  must  send  that  to  Brother  Skinner" — Bev.  Dolphus  Skinner, 
who  was  then  editing  the  "Magazine  and  Advocate."  Tbe  whole  account  of 
this  was  described  to  Horace  Greeley  by  Mr.  Woolley,  in  a  most  fatherly  man- 
ner, and  he  added,  "My  child  is  as  timid  and  shy  as  a  sensitive  plant,  but 
she  knows  no  fear  when  with  me,  and  child-like  flew  into  my  arms  and  begged 
me  not  to  send  her  verses  for  strangers  to  read,  but  we  compromised  by 
my  promising  to  attach  another  signature."  It  therefore  appeared  over  the 
name  of  "Lyra,"  a  signature  of  her  father's  choosing,  which  she  used  mostly 
until  her  marriage. 

In  answer  to  a  letter  concerning  these  facts,  Mrs.  Gillette  says,  "0,  yes! 
my  father  was  pleased,  and  no  subsequent  praise  has  effaced,  or  ever  can 
efface  from  my  memory  the  smile  that  spread  over  his  whole  face,  and  his  lov- 
ing and  tender  words  of  encouragement.  "But,"  she  adds,  "you  know  parents 
are  easily  pleased,  but  delighted  as  I  was  with  my  father's  praise,  I  be- 
came anxious  to  know  if  there  was  any  worth  to  others  in  what  I  wrote,  so 
unknown  to  my  father  or  any  one,  I  sent  to  Mr.  Greeley  a  poem  called  the 
'Prairie  Grave,'  over  the  signature  of  'Carrie  Bussell,'  and  to  my  surprise,  it 
appeared  immediately  in  the  'New  York  Tribune.'     It  was  my  father's  habit 


LUCIA    FIDELIA    \Y.    GILLETTE.  173 

to  read  the  'Tribune'  aloud,  and  when  he  read  the  'Prairie  Grave,'  he  looked 
up  and  said,  'Grandma,  1  am  sure  that  is  yours,  but  why  did  you  change  the 
name?'  I  confessed  the  truth,  and  told  him  1  wanted  to  save  him  from 
reading  a  severe  criticism  about  his  daughter." 

Remember,  Mrs.  Gillette  was  a  child  when  the  following  was  written : 

THE    PRAIEIE    GRAVE. 

Young  May   had   hung   her   blossoms  out 

On  vine  and  shrub  and  tree, 
And  sent  her  sunbeams,   hand   in  hand. 

Across  the  azure  sea, 
When,  underneath  an  oak  tree's  shade, 

Tar  on  the  Western   Wild, 
A  mourning  mother  stood    beside 

The  coffin  of  her  child. 

She  heeded  not  the  low-breathed  hymn, 

Tiie   fervent,  simple   prayer. 
She  thought  not  of  the  stranger  forms 

Thai  gather'd   round  her  there; 
But  when  another  footstep  came, 

She  knew  the  heavy  tread, 
And  saw  her  husband's  bloated  face 

By  the   white  face  of  her  dead. 

One  careless    look   the   father  gave— 

Brushed  off  a  falling  tear- 
Then  laughed  a  wild  and  drunken  laugh, 

And  staggered  from  the  bier; 
While  strangers  cover'd   o'er  the   face, 

So   fair,   and    white,    and   eold. 
And  laid  the  little  shrouded  form 

Beneath    the   prairie  mould. 

And  then  each   stranger  turned   away, 

And  left   the   mother  there, 
Alone  in  her  deep  wretchedness, 

And  in   her  wild    despair; 
And  as   she   pressed    her  trembling  hands 

Upon    her   burning   brow. 
She  murmured  in  her  agony, 

"If   Qod   would  take   me  now! 

"My   child!    my   child!    my  darling  one. 

How  can  I  leave   you   here. 
Without    one    human    eye    to    watch. 

31 


474  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

One  weeping  mourner  near. 
For.  ere  the  morrow's  setting  sun 

Shall  gild  thy  prairie  grave, 
The  filling  sail  will  bear  me  on. 

Across  the  shining  wave. 

"And  then,  amid  the  rock-crowned  hills. 

Where,  in  my  girlhood's  hours, 
I  heard  the  wild  bird's  gushing  song, 

And  plucked  the  forest  flowers, 
There,  I  shall  miss  thy  merry   voice, 

Thy  childish  happy  play 
And  the  soft  light  of  thy  dark  eye, 

That  drove  my  gloom  away. 

"My  child!  my  child!  oh,  who  will  come 

At  mellow  even-tide, 
And  with  a  heart  of  yearning  love, 

Sit  fondly  by  thy  side, 
Oh!  who  will  watch  the  Summer  flowers 

In  graceful  beauty  wave. 
Or  hear  the  wild  winds  sing  around 

Thy  lonely  prairie  grave? 

"Oh  darling!  could  I  take  thee  back 

Within  the  old  church   shade. 
Where  eight  long,  weary  years  ago. 

My  eldest  born  was  laid, 
But  here,  oh,  here,  no  human  eye 

One  burning  tear  will  shed. 
No  human  heart  will  come  to  pray 

Beside  thy  dust-strewn  bed. 

"And  yet,  my  darling,  there  is  One, 

Who  never  hath  forgot. 
And  his  all-seeing  eye  will  guard 

This  little,  lonely  spot; 
And  I  will  drive  this  burning  pain 

Back  from  my  throbbing  brow, 
And  try  to  thank  that  Changeless  Friend, 

That  he  hath  called  thee  now." 

As  soon  as  that  sweet-hearted  and  grand-souled  editor  found  out  who  it 
was  who  sent  the  poem,  he  wrote  her  words  of  commendation,  and  gave  her 
solid  encouragement  to  continue  her  writing.  This,  with  her  father's  praise, 
gave  her  confidence,  and  she  soon  became  a  regular  contributor  to  our  papers 


LUCIA    FIDELIA    W.    GILLETTE.  475 

anil  magazines.  In  1855  she  wrote  her  father's  memoir,  one  of  the  most 
readable  of  biographies. 

Mrs.  Gillette  has  written  a  good  deal  of  prose,  and  during  the  war  a  vol- 
ume was  ready  for  publication,  and  a  publisher  engaged,  but  the  failure  of 
the  firm  stopped  the  work,  and  I  think  she  has  made  no  attempt  to  secure  its 
publication  since.  Her  book,  published  in  1878,  "Pebbles,"  has  many  choice 
poems  in  it.  The  first  edition  sold  readily,  and  received  most  favorable  criti- 
cism. 

Mrs.  Gillette  was  married  Dec.  23,  1850,  and  in  a  letter  to  us  says,  "I 
never  spoke  a  word  in  public  after  my  graduation  essay,  until  my  precious 
daughter  was  nineteen  years  old,  being  always  more  than  usually  engrossed 
in  domestic  cares  and  labors,  and  very  quietly  living  in  my  household,  amid 
my  books  and  my  loves,  and  the  dear  joys  and  comforts  of  religion  and  the 
blessed  church." 

In  1870  she  gave  her  first  lecture,  subject,  "Fanny  Forrester."  I  will 
make  a  specimen  quotation  from  her  critics: 

Said  the  "Concord  News,"  "Her  lecture  is  full  of  poetic  fire  and  tender 
pathos,  and  sublime  flights  of  earnest  utterance  hold  the  minds  of  all  in  rapt 
attention.  Her  kindness  of  heart,  and  unostentatious  and  unaffected  man- 
ner, and  her  serious  expression  of  countenance  make  all  feel  that  she  talks  for 
the  truth's  sake,  and  not  for  any  personal  effect."  An  eminent  and  schol- 
arly Eastern  divine  says,  "There  are  scenes  of  heroism  in  her  life  that  woidd 
have  made  pictures  in  the  New  Testament,  and  had  they  occurred  at  Naza- 
reth or  Jerusalem,  the  name  of  Fidelia  would  have  been  added  to  those  of 
Mary  and  Salome,  and  the  stories  would  have  been  selected  with  the  beauties 
of  the  Bible." 

After  much  urging  from  true  and  substantial  friends  of  many  years' 
standing,  she  asked  for  and  received,  in  1873,  Letter  of  License,  with  a  line 
from  the  President  of  the  Michigan  Convention  of  Universalists,  saying,  "You 
are  so  well  known  in  the  church  you  can  be  ordained  at  once."  But  her 
timidity  made  her  feel  uncertain  whether  she  was  "sent  to  preach  the  Gos- 
pel, to  bind  up  the  brokenhearted,  to  unseal  the  eyes  of  the  blind,  and  to 
open  the  prison  doors  for  those  who  are  in  bonds,"  so  that  she  shrank  from 
greater  obligations.     Her  thought  was,  "If  I  am  needed  as  a  comforter  and 


476  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

helper  in  the  most  sacred  places  of  the  church,  God  will  show  me  the  fact; 
until  then  I  will  work  with  the  outside  army  of  licentiates." 

Kev.  A.  Crum,  President  of  the  Ordaining  Council,  wrote  to  her  again, 
saying,  "The  church  holds  open  her  doors,  and  hids  you  welcome  to  her 
proudest  titles  and  her  highest  honors.  If  you  will  not  come  in  we  can  only 
wait  your  time. " 

Four  years  Mrs.  Gillette  waited  and  questioned  herself,  "Can  I  go  to 
the  intemperate,  and  take  them  hy  the  hand  as  hrothers  or  sisters,  and  use 
my  influence  for  their  reformation?  Can  I  go  into  the.  homes  of  want  and 
destitution,  and  speak  words  of  encouragement,  and  leave  substantial  evi- 
dence of  my  good  will?  Can  I  at  all  times  refrain  from  speaking  words 
which  might  cause  dissension  or  discord  among  friends?  Am  I  willing  not 
only  to  preach,  but  to  live  Universahsm  as  nearly  as  it  is  possible  for  me  to 
do?"  As  soon  as  she  could  answer  these  questions  satisfactorily  to  herself, 
she  bowed  her  head  for  the  laying  on  of  hands  and  the  blessings  of  the 
church,  and  was  ordained  in  Manchester,  Mich.,  by  an  Ordaining  Council 
called  for  that  purpose,  in  February,  1877,  Eev.  A.  Crum  preaching  the  or- 
daining sermon.  She  writes,  "God  bless  the  Universahst  ministry  of  Michi- 
gan for  its  full,  free  grace  to  women."  The  Council  consisted  of  Kevs.  C.  W. 
Knickerbacker,  J.  B.  Gilman,  M.  B.  Carpenter,  J.  Straub,  Chs.  Fluhrer  and 
A.  Crum.  All  gave  her  the  fullest  courtesy,  and  were  anxious  to  grant  her 
the  highest  honors. 

She  was  State  Missionary  for  Michigan  before  and  after  her  ordination, 
and  at  the  same  time  acted  as  agent  for  the  "Northwestern  Universahst  Pub- 
lishing House."  Her  work  in  Iowa  is  most  successful.  She  considers  it  the 
most  efficient  work  of  her  ministry.  She  has  often  preached  three  sermons 
on  Sundays,  and  three  or  four  on  week  days,  for  the  church,  and  lectured 
on  temperance  and  other  subjects.  Few  men  have  worked  more  earnestly 
and  continuously.     Her  field  has  chiefly  been  in  New  Sharon  and  Xnoxville. 

Mrs.  M.  Paddock,  of  Michigan,  hearing  of  my  intended  work,  begged 
the  privilege  of  saying  that  from  the  time  Mrs.  Gillette  came  into  Michigan, 
until  the  last  three  years,  she  was  frequently  at  her  house,  and  she  knew  her 
under  all  circumstances  in  life,  and  she  says,  "Of  her  home  life  I  know  she 
was  the  pride  and  comfort  of  her  father's  house.     I  have  heard  him  say, 


LUCIA    FIDELIA    W.    GILLETTE.  477 

4Well,  rny  daughter,  I  can  say  for  yon,  that  good  as  you  may  bo  wherever 
else  you  are,  you  are  the  best  at  home.'  "  Another  life-long  friend  wi 
*  *  "I  write  hoping  to  be  permitted  to  give  some  informal  ion  in  regard  to 
the  life  of  Mrs.  Gillette.  I  have  known  her  as  long  as  any  one  in  Michigan, 
and  I  am  happy  in  sending  you  some  of  my  impressions  as  to  her  life  and 
character.  Thirty-three  years  ago  Last  Blay,  one  bright  Spring  morning,  there 
came  to  our  gate  a  wagon  with  household  furniture,  and  containing  Fidelia 
Woolley  and  her  father  with  the  two  youngest  children.  The  mother  and 
other  sister  were  left  with  friends  in  Birmingham,  as  they  were  not  able  to 
come  until  their  home  was  settled  for  them.  We  were  friends  from  that  day, 
as  were  all  who  saw  her,  made  so  by  her  sweet  smile  and  winning  ways. 
She  taught  the  district  school  that  Summer.  Her  own  love  for  children 
drew  them  to  her.  There  is  one  by  my  side  now,  who  has  not  seen  her 
since  she  was  a  child  of  ten,  who  says,  'I  know  Mrs.  Gillette  must  be  good, 
because  I  always  loved  her  so  when  I  was  little.' 

"Conscientious  in  all  that  she  did,  with  a  love  for  the  right,  kept  her  true 
in  all  the  relations  of  life,  as  wife  and  mother,  daughter,  sister  or  friend. 
Her  faith  and  love  of  our  religion  has  been  her  help  and  stay  in  many  a  dark 
hour,  when  many  would  have  given  up  in  despair.  To  her  father  she  was  a 
blessing,  and  to  her  brothers  and  sisters  her  love  has  ever  gone  out  in  deeds 
as  well  as  words  of  love.  In  society  she  was,  and  is  now,  a  favorite.  Quiet, 
gentle,  tender  to  all,  she  imparts  a  share  of  her  own  ease  with  a  faculty  to 
draw  others  out  and  make  them  converse  almost  fluently,  when  without  her 
presence  they  would  hardly  have  uttered  a  word.  In  her  disposition  she  is 
loving  and  tender,  forbearing  and  longsuffering,  but  firm  and  true  to  the 
right  in  all  things. 

"I  must  think  that  circumstances  combined  to  push  her  into  public 
labor,  and  I  know  that  only  because  love  stood  behind  her  and  held  her  up, 
did  she  have  strength  to  fight  out  successfully  the  battle,  with  her  tender  sen- 
sitiveness, that  enabled  her  to  make  her  first  attempt  before  the  public. 
While  she  is  still  successful,  I  must  believe  the  place  native  to  her,  and  in 
which  she  is  happiest,  and  where  her  life  manifests  its  greatest  beauty,  La 
with  her  books  and  her  pen,  in  the  home  of  love,  guarded  by  a  sacred  and 
protecting  tenderness. " 


478 


OUR  WOMAN   WORKERS. 


The  following  sweet  poem, 
the  friends  of  Mrs.  Gillette: 


I  am  sure,  will  be  read  with  pleasure  by  all 


PEACE. 


Out  of  the  dear  old  Bible, 

After  a  day  like  this— 
A  day  with  no  tender  voices. 

An  eve,  with  no  lips  to  kiss. 

A  day  of  such  lonely  anguish 

As  only  my  God  can  know 
And  no  voice  in  the  evening  whispers, 

"My  darling,  why  grieve  you  so?" 

No  home  in  the  heart  I  yearn  for, 

No  refuge,  no  place  of  rest- 
Only  the  world's  cold  billows 

To  surge  o'er  my  troubled  breast. 

One  of  the  dear  old   stories, 

Which  his  love  blossoms  through, 

As  he  cared  for  the  birds  and  lilies, 

And  the  hearts  that  were  dearer,  too. 

One  of  the  sweet,  old  stories, 

After  a  day  like  this, 
Till  out  of  the  precious  pages 

Smiles  the  gentle  face  I  miss. 

And  I  fall  asleep  in  the  fire-light. 
While  lips  like  the  ruby  wine, 

Are  pressed,  with  their  richest  nectar, 
In  the  silence,  close  to  mine. 


ADA    C.    BOWLES 


Was  born  in  Gloucester,  Mass.,  Aug.  2,  1836.  She  was  the  youngest  of 
ten  children,  all  of  whom  were  expected  to  be  self-supporting  very  early  in 
life.  Ada  had  a  brave  heart,  and  did  not  despond  or  consider  it  a  calamity 
that  she  was  not  to  inherit  lands,  but  rather  rejoiced  that  she  inherited  from 
her  parents  a  high  morality  and  industrious  habits. 


ADA    C.    BOWLES.  479 

As  soon  as  she  was  old  enough  to  study,  she  applied  herself  with  a  relish 
and  a  determination  that  would  warrant  success  with  one  with  a  less  active 
brain.  Her  education  was  obtained  at  public  schools,  supplemented  of  course 
by  additional  study  by  herself,  as  will  appear  by  the  fact  that  at  the  age  of 
fifteen  she  commenced  teaching  where  she  had  been  a  pupil,  and  continued 
successfully  for  several  years  in  the  same  school.  She  was  a  lover  of  nature 
and  animals,  and  was  an  expert  at  swimming,  rowing  and  climbing,  and 
thinks  no  Swiss  ever  loved  his  mountains  more  than  she  did  her  ocean, 
which  was  her  soul's  darling  pride;  nor  could  he  climb  his  mountains  with 
more  ease  than  she  could  swim  in  or  row  over  the  sea.  It  was  her  habit 
also  for  years,  to  take  her  Newfoundland  dog,  who  was  her  constant 
companion,  and  in  the  hush  of  night  perch  herself  upon  an  overhanging 
cliff,  and  watch  with  delight,  sometimes  for  hours,  the  waves  as  they  rose, 

Rippling  rounding  from  the  sea. 

It  was  in  one  of  these  quiet  seasons  that  she  pledged  to  God  and  woman  her 
strength,  her  heart,  her  mind.  To  this  exhilarating  exercise  and  complete 
repose  of  soul  she  ascribes  her  enjoyable  steadiness  of  health. 

From  this  time  on  she  was  interested  in  " An ti- Slavery,"  "Woman's 
Rights"  and  "Temperance."  Without  doubt,  in  her  girlhood,  she  had  visions 
of  her  independent  self,  occupying  a  most  enviable  position  among  the  women 
engaged  in  reform  movements.  But  all  of  this  beautiful  independence  she 
very  properly  forsook  for  a  husband,  and  with  a  good  deal  of  naivete  declares, 
"That  is  Woman's  Rights!  " 

In  1859  she  was  united  in  marriage  to  Rev.  B.  P.  Bowles,  a  husband 
who  has  co-operated  with  her  in  all  her  work  on  the  reforms  of  the  day.  Mr. 
Bowles  has  from  youth  been  a  steadfast  friend  to  the  advancement  of  women, 
and  has  earnestly  supported  all  work  for  her  progression.  He  not  only 
seconded  Mrs.  Bowles  in  her  work  for  reforms,  but  made  every  effort  to  in- 
terest her  in  the  doctrines  of  his  own  church,  with  which  she  was  not  ac- 
quainted, and  he  presented  the  beauties  of  bis  faith  so  clearly  that  she  most 
adopt  it,  or  turn  her  face  from  the  light,  and  close  her  heart  against  the 
truth,  and  so  with  good  judgment  she  accepted  the  former,  and  soon  became 
a  most  zealous  teacher  of  a  Bible  class,  and  an  earnest  worker  in  the  church. 


480 


OUR    WOMAN   WORKERS. 


Mrs.  Bowles  gained  her  first  freedom  as  a  speaker,  when  a  teacher  in  a 
Normal  class  of  fifty  in  the  Cambridgeport  Sunday-school  Union,  of  which 
she  became  an  efficient  officer.  She  has  ever  been  an  earnest  worker  in  the 
temperance  cause,  and  could  win  the  attention  of  an  audience  without  trouble. 
She  became  an  attractive  speaker  on  "  Woman's  Rights,"  and  has  ever  held 
herself  in  readiness  for  duty.  Mr.  Bowles  encouraged  her  to  preach,  as  did 
others,  feeling  sure  as  she  had  enlightened  people  on  moral  questions,  and 
persuaded  them  to  take  a  bold  stand,  that  she  could,  with  her  religious  na- 
ture, lift  them  up  spiritually,  and  so  in  accordance  with  her  own  feelings  she 
accepted  appointments,  and  after  preaching  about  three  years,  she  passed 
the  usual  examination,  and  was  unanimously  granted  a  Letter  of  License  by 
the  Massachusetts  Committee  of  Fellowship. 

Mrs.  Bowles  was  elected,  with  Mrs.  Livermore,  Trustee  of  the  Massa- 
chusetts State  Convention.  They  were  the  first  women  elected  to  that  office 
by  that  body.  She  was  re-elected  for  three  years.  She  was  non-resident 
pastor  of  Marlboro,  Mass.,  when  her  husband  received  a  .call  to  Philadelphia, 
in  1874.  In  that  year  she  was  ordained  in  Pennsylvania  at  the  State  Con- 
vention. Rev.  R.  H.  Pullman  preached  the  sermon.  She  was  at  the  same 
time  appointed  to  preach  the  Occasional  Sermon,  in  1875.  She  soon  became 
non-resident  pastor  at  East  Philadelphia.  She  had  started  a  church  'and  Sun- 
day-school in  Trenton,  N.  J.,  when  Mr.  Bowles  accepted  a  call  from  the  people 
of  Osage,  Iowa,  in  1878.  Their  stay  was  short  in  this  beautiful  inland  town, 
for  he  obeyed  a  call  to  the  smiling  city  by  the  Golden  Gate.  While  in  Cali- 
fornia Mrs.  Bowles  led  a  very  busy  life.  She  delivered  a  good  many  lectures, 
was  President  of  the  Woman's  Suffrage  Society,  and  was  editor  of  the 
Woman's  Suffrage  column  in  the  "San  Francisco  Transcript."  In  1880  they 
moved  from  the  setting  toward  the  rising  sun,  to  reside  in  Boston,  Mass.,  and 
Mrs.  Bowles  supplied  the  pulpit  at  Valley  Falls,  R.  I. 

Mrs.  Bowles  has  been  a  contributor  to  the  "  Woman's  Journal "  ever 
since  its  existed,  and  has  corresponded  for  many  papers,  although  she  feels 
that  her  literary  work  has  been  slight,  compared  to  her  other  active  labors. 
"But,  after  all,"  she  says,  "the  most  important  step  that  I  have  taken  in 
life,  is  that  in  marrying  I  made  myself  step-mother  of  a  son  and  two 
daughters,  and  as  I  am  a  very  happy  one,  I  think  I  cannot  be  a  very  cruel 


ELIZA    TUPPER    WILKES.  481 

one.  I  have  a  son  whose  seventh  birthday  comes  this  year  (1881)  and  two 
daughters  of  my  own.  Our  darling  Charlie  (my  step-son)  has  left  as.  My 
eldest  step-daughter  is  my  housekeeper,  and  the  second  married  the  only  son 
of  R.  P.  Stebbins,  D.D.,  of  California."  Her  other  children  have  Ik  en  care 
fully  nurtured,  and  are  promising,  and  her  skillful  management  of  her  do- 
mestic affairs  proves  that  it  may  be  profitable  for  a  woman  to  do  many  things 
outside  her  home,  which,  meantime,  need  not  suffer,  hut  gain,  as  she  is  able 
to  bring  in  fresh  ideas,  and  ampler  means  hy  her  earnings  to  carry  them  out. 
It  is  but  just  to  say  that  Mrs.  Bowles  has  never  neglected  her  home  for 
other  work,  but  her  step-children,  as  well  as  her  own.  have  had  the  tender, 
careful  watching  of  a  loving  mother.  She  lectures  on  "  Meddling  Women," 
"Old  Maids,"  "Strong-minded  House-keeping"  and  "Strong  Drink  and  Weak 
Men."  The  "Boston  Post"  says,  "Mrs.  Bowles  wins  her  way  to  the  hearts 
of  every  audience  before  which  she  appears." 


ELIZA    TUPPER    WILKES 

Was  bom  in  the  little  town  of  Hoidton,  Me.,  Oct.  8, 1844.  When  about 
eight  years  old,  her  parents  moved  to  Iowa.  Until  she  was  fifteen  especial 
attention  was  given  to  her  education  at  home  by  a  private  tutor.  She  re- 
ceived her  first  public  instruction  in  Mr.  Harris's  popular  school  at  Mt.  Pleasant, 
Iowa.  From  Mt.  Pleasant  she  went  to  Maine,  and  attended  an  academy  for 
two  years.  She  returned  to  Iowa  when  eighteen,  and  soon  commenced  a 
course  of  studies  at  the  University  in  Pella,  Iowa,  from  which  college  she 
graduated  in  1866  with  honor.  Through  her  education  and  the  class  of  books 
she  considered  it  her  duty  to  read,  she  became  morbidly  interested  in  the 
heathen,  and  in  1807  received  an  appointment  to  go  to  India  to  teach  in  the 
Baptist  Mission,  which  from  childhood  had  been  her  pet  intention.  Before 
her  preparations  for  departure  were  completed  her  mother  was  taken  very 
sick,  and  she  abandoned  for  a  time  her  cherished  idea,  but  she  could  not 
abandon  the  interest  she  entertained  in  the  condition  of  the  heathen,   for  it 


482  OUK    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

was  then  the  popular  idea,  that  if  they  did  not  before  death  learn  that  there 
was  a  God,  and  repent  and  believe,  he  would  send  them  to  hell.  As  she  in- 
vestigated the  subject  of  future  punishment,  aU  at  once  a  new  light  shone  in 
upon  the  Scriptures,  and  her  delight  in  reading  them  grew  day  by  day.  She 
was  lifted  up,  and  filled  with  love  for  her  heavenly  Father  that  she  could  not 
explain  until  she  read  Whittier's  "Eternal  Goodness,"  which  illuminated  her 
heart  and  understanding,  and  enabled  her  to  see  God's  character  in  its  true 
light.     From  that  time  on  she  was  a  Universalist  and  studied  its  theology. 

Miss  Tupper  wrote  to  Mr.  Whittier  of  the  light  and  comfort  obtained 
from  his  poem,  to  which  he  expressed  great  satisfaction. 

Miss  Tupper  began  to  preach  in  the  Spring  of  1868.  Her  first  settle- 
ment was  in  Neenah  and  Menasha,  Wis.,  where  she  remained  two  years,  and 
she  rejoices  in  the  friendship  of  many  there.  In  November,  1869,  she  was 
married  to  W.  A.  "Wilkes,  of  Neenah.  In  1870  she  removed  to  Rochester, 
Minn.,  and  commenced  her  work  as  pastor  of  that  society,  and  the  three 
years  of  the  relationship  enjoyed  by  pastor  and  people  were  very  pleasant, 
and  are  recalled  by  both  with  much  satisfaction.  Mrs.  Wilkes  was  ordained 
at  Rochester,  in  March,  1871.  After  leaving  Rochester  she  preached  in 
Webster,  Mass.,  a  short  time,  and  then  moved  to  Colorado  Springs,  Col., 
where  she  preached  two  years  for  a  society  composed  of  Universalists,  Uni- 
tarians and  Liberals.  The  great  altitude  so  reduced  her  nervous  health  that 
she  was  forced  to  make  a  change.  Dakota  was  chosen  as  the  most  hopeful 
rdace,  where  she  now  resides,  at  Sioux  Falls.  She  occasionally  preaches  in  a 
school-house  in  the  country,  and  sometimes  supplies  for  the  Yankton  Society, 
and  has  preached  in  the  Methodist  and  Congregational  Churches  in  Sioux 
Falls.  She  was  Vice  President  of  the  Woman's  Centenary  Association  for 
some  years,  and  is  now  President  of  the  Home  Temperance  Union. 

Mrs.  Wilkes  has  always  been  one  of  the  most  modest  of  women,  never 
presuming,  and  much  beloved  wherever  she  has  lived.  She  says,  "In  my 
ministerial  life  the  blessing  to  which  I  am  most  indebted  is  the  good,  judi- 
cious and  peace-making  friends  who  have  always  been  my  strength  and 
comfort,  and  I  do  not  think  credit  can  be  given  to  me,  unless  it  is  given  to 
those  who  believed  in  me.  My  pride  is  that  I  worked  my  own  way  through 
college." 


FANNIE    U.    HUBERTS.  483 

In  her  private  life  she  takes  pride  in  being  the  mother  of  four  boys,  and 
well  she  may,  for  in  training  them  for  careers  of  usefulness  and  honor,  she 
will  do  a  work  for  humanity  that  no  public  stations  can  equal,  though  occu- 
pied until  the  hair  is  silvered  and  the  eyes  grow  dim  with  years. 

Mrs.  Wilkes  is  very  intelligent,  and  sweetly  affable,  and  converses  with 
ease  and  grace.  "  She  speaks  as  the  birds  sing,  naturally,"  said  one  of  our 
most  cultured  man -ministers. 


FANNIE  U.  ROBERTS 

Was  born  in  South  Berwick,  Maine,  in  1834,  and  was  the  daughter  of 
Frederic  and  Hannah  Cogswell,  both  of  whom  were  preachers  in  the  Chris- 
tian Church.  She  was  married  when  quite  young,  and  joined  the  Congrega- 
tional Church  in  Northwood,  N.  H.,  at  the  age  of  twenty-eight,  though 
she  had  always  cherished  Universalistic  views.  In  1870  she  began  to  lecture 
on  moral  themes,  and  in  1871  supplied  the  pulpits  of  the  Universalist 
churches  in  Kensington,  N.  H.,  and  Wells,  Me.,  till  she  accepted  a  call 
from  Battery,  Maine.  Her  ordination  sermon  was  preached  by  Rev.  G.  W. 
Quinby,  D.D.,  Feb.  5,  1874,  and  she  continued  preaching  till  she  lost  her 
voice,  when  she  fled  to  Minnesota,  where  she  died  Aug.  2G,  1875,  at  the 
home  of  her  sister,  Mrs.  Lizzie  Waite,  in  Winona.  She  sent  her  farewell 
message  to  Dr.  Quinby,  saying,  "TeM  him  I  die  in  ike  faith."  Rev.  P.  A 
Hanaford  says,  "She  was  no  ordinary  woman;"  and  Rev.  S.  S.  Fletcher 
writes,  "You  cannot  overstate  the  love  and  esteem  in  which  our  dear  sister 
Roberts  was  held  by  all  the  societies  to  which  she  had  ever  ministered.  She 
was  eloquent  and  instructive  as  a  preacher,  and  most  efficient  in  all  the  pas- 
toral relations.  She  was  ever  modest,  and  the  sweet,  unaffected  dignity  of 
her  womanly  nature  shone  out  in  all  her  acts,  and  whatever  may  be  Baid  or 
thought  of  a  woman  ministry,  with  Mrs.  Roberts  it  proved  an  entire  success." 

Mrs.  Roberts  was  made  a  justice  of  the  peace,  and  officiated  at  the  mar- 
riage of  her  son. 


484  OUK   WOMAN    WOKKERS. 


PEUDY  LE  CLERC  HASKELL, 

Daughter  of  Napoleon  and  Rosy  H.  LeClerc,  was  born  at  Louisville, 
Ky.,  Feb.  6,  1844.  She  was  an  exceedingly  debcate  child,  and  her  life  was 
only  preserved  by  the  greatest  parental  devotion.  On  many  different  occa- 
sions she  was  given  up  as  dead,  and  once  her  anxious,  heavy-hearted  parents 
read  her  obituary,  while  they  were  still  faithfully  watching  at  her  bedside. 
During  her  youth  her  parents  moved  to  Vevay,  Inch,  where  she  spent  the 
greater  portion  of  her  feeble  years. 

Being  mentally  bright  and  industrious,  at  the  age  of  nineteen  she  en- 
tered the  seminary  at  Ladoga,  Ind.,  where  she  spent  the  school  months  of 
1863-64.  Here  she  was  industrious,  cheerful,  and  sometimes  mischievous, 
being  invariably  introduced  to  visitors  as  "our  little  heretic,"  "our  little  Uni- 
versalist,"  etc.,  etc.  Her  father  learning  these  facts,  furnished  her  our 
best  denominational  books,  and  she  was  then  very  soon  "always  ready  to  give 
a  reason  for  her  hope."  She  has  told  the  writer  that  these  experiences 
strengthened  her  in  our  beautiful  faith,  and  she  believed  they  were  not  un- 
productive of  good  influences  upon  such  as  heard  them.  Before  fifteen  years 
of  age  she  had  received  a  first-class  certificate  to  teach  school  for  one  year, 
and  she  returned  to  Vevay  and  engaged  for  a  few  terms  in  the  business  of 
teaching.  She  was,  however,  determined  to  enter  the  ministry  of  the  Univer- 
salist  Church,  and  began  her  preparations  under  the  direction  of  Rev.  E. 
Case,  who  was  then  her  pastor  at  Vevay.  She  was  regularly  ordained  at 
Madison,  Ind.,  Thursday  eve.,  Oct.  14,  1869,  sermon  by  Rev.  A.  W.  Bruce, 
of  LaFayette. 

She  was  immediately  engaged  as  pastor  of  the  Madison  Church,  in  be- 
half of  which  she  accomplished  good  and  lasting  results,  but  was  compelled 
to  resign,  on  account  of  impaired  health,  when  her  resignation  was  accepted, 
accompanied  by  flattering  resolutions. 

From  this  date  Miss  LeClerc  spent  the  next  few  months  in  seeking  health 
and  strength,  travelling,  visiting  and  preaching  only  occasionally,  yet  form- 
ing friendships  while  helping  on  our  cause,  at  Greencastle,  Crawfordsville, 


I'W'DY  LE    CLERC    HASKELL.  48.", 

Fincastle,  Guilford,  Milan,  Mt.  Carmel,  Patriot,  etc.,  etc.,  in  Indiana,  and  at 
St.  Cloud  and  Minneapolis,  Minn.,  as  well  as  at  many  other  points  in  Ohio 
and  other  States. 

While  attending  our  General  Convention  at  Cincinnati,  Ohio,  in  the  year 
1872,  she  was  associated  with  Miss  A.  J.  Chapin,  then  of  Iowa,  in  conduct- 
ing a  Communion  service,  and  impressed  representatives  of  our  church  in 
Mt.  Pleasant,  Iowa,  with  her  eminent  fitness  to  hecorne  their  pastor.  Ju  the 
coming  Spring  she  was  engaged  as  pastor  for  one  year,  and  at  its  close  was 
re-engaged  for  a  second  year,  and  then  for  a  third,  at  a  salary  of  $1,200,  much 
of  which  was  spent  for  the  city  poor.  But  her  continued  ill  health  ami 
the  advice  of  her  physicians  that  she  retire  from  active  pulpit  labor  for  at 
least  one  year,  induced  her  resignation,  to  the  regret  of  all  the  people.  She 
returned  to  her  parents'  home  at  Aurora,  Ind.,  hut  this  climate  seemed  not 
to  improve  her  health,  and  she  arranged  to  spend  her  next  Winter  at  Atlanta, 
Ga.,  and  was  the  guest  of  our  brother  minister,  Rev.  W.  H.  Grigsby,  and 
wife,  of  the  Executive  Department  of  State.  Her  general  health  was  greatly 
improved  by  the  mild  climate,  rest,  recreation  and  pleasant  surroundings. 
Greater  sufferings  were,  however,  awaiting  her,  as  in  March,  187G,  she  was 
hurried  home  to  her  dying  father's  bedside,  and  the  great  shock,  as  she  dearly 
loved  and  almost  idolized  her  father,  together  with  the  abrupt  and  unex- 
pected change  in  climate,  came  near  ending  her  life.  Shortly  after  her 
father's  death,  she  and  her  mother  and  sister,  wdiom  she  supported,  re- 
moved to  Newtown,  Ohio,  where  she  had  engaged  as  pastor,  accomplished  a 
good  work,  and  formed  many  dear  and  lasting  friendships.  In  the  Fall  of 
1877,  she  settled  in  Covington,  Ivy.,  where  she  resided  until  March  28,  1878, 
when  she  was  married  to  Eev.  C.  L.  Haskell,  of  our  ministry,  whom  she 
learned  to  know  intimately  as  a  student  of  the  Iowa  Wesleyan  University, 
when  in  Mt.  Pleasant,  Iowa,  in  1873-4. 

Rev.  Mr  Haskell  was  the  pastor  of  our  Oxford,  Ohio,  church,  where  was 
established  one  of  the  happiest  ministerial  homes  that  mortals  ever  enjoy. 
I;,  v.  P.  LeClerc  Haskell,  while  superintending  her  household  affairs,  con- 
tinued to  preach  occasionally  until  the  time  of  her  death,  which  occurred 
December  27,  1878.  Funeral  services  were  conducted  at  Oxford,  Ohio,  Sun- 
day, December  29,   by  Rev.   W.  S.  Bacon.     Her  remains  were  carefully  laid 


486 


OUE    WOMAN    WORKERS. 


away  by  loving  hands  in  the  beautiful  cemetery  at  Newtown,  Ohio.  On 
the  tasteful  monument  which  marks  her  grave  are  these  words,  "Rev. 
P.  LeClerc,  wife  of  Rev.  C.  L.  Haskell,  passed  into  the  higher  life,  Decem- 
ber 27,  1878. 

Mrs.  Haskell  was  about  the  medium  size,  with  jet  black  hair,  which  she 
wore  combed  plainly  back,  dark  hazel  eyes,  full  of  ''heavenly  rhetoric,"  a  neat 
cut  mouth,  nose  inclined  to  Grecian,  a  face  both  interesting  and  pleasing, 
showing  the  thoughts  and  feelings  passing  in  her  mind. 

She  freely  gave  eight  years  of  her  best  life  to  the  church  she  so  dearly 
loved,  lecturing  in  the  meantime  as  frequently  as  opportunities  offered  and 
strength  would  permit,  on  various  themes,  and  to  the  entire  satisfaction  of 
her  audiences.  When  we  fully  consider  the  many  adverse  influences  against 
which  she  had  constantly  to  battle,  we  must  acknowledge  that  few  persons 
have  accomplished  so  much,  and  none  more  in  the  same  years,  than  Rev. 
P.  LeClerc  Haskell. 


SOPHIE    A.    GIBB 


Was  born  in  Oxford,  Erie  Co.,  Ohio,  June  3,  1842.  Her  maiden  name 
was  Schofield.  She  was  married  atTownsend,  Ohio,  in  March,  18(32,  to  Rev. 
S.  F.  Gibb,  now  a  clergyman  of  our  church.  Mrs.  Gibb  is  a  graduate  of  no 
theological  school,  but  says,  "What  little  I  know  I  have  learned  by  observa- 
tion and  application  since  I  left  my  teens.  I  was  cradled  in  the  lap  of  ortho- 
doxy of  the  bluest  kind.  All  my  young  life  was  darkened  by  that  religion ; 
it  became  a  terror  to  me,  and  entered  my  heart  like  a  dagger. 

"At  fifteen  I  lost  a  darling  brother  who  had  never  been  converted,  and 
I  was  told  there  was  no  hope  for  him.  Then  my  heart  rebelled  against  that 
God  whom  I  had  struggled  so  long  and  so  hard  to  love.  How  dark  the 
years  that  followed  no  one  knows. 

"At  twenty  I  heard  the  first  Universalist  sermon;  it  was  preached  by 
Geo.  R.  Brown,  and  was  indeed  good  news.     I  began  reading  Universalism, 


LOTTIE    DAVIS    CHOSLEY.  487 

and  soon  embraced  it  with  my  whole  soul.  I  found  that  for  which  I  had 
before  sought  in  vain,  comfort  in  religion;  it  fed  to  its  fullness  my  poor, 
starved  heart.  I  wanted  to  teach  that  which  had  created  the  world  anew  to 
me,  and  to-day  I  preach  it,  not  because  L  feel  a  fitness,  but  because  I  have 
learned  to  love  God  and  humanity." 

Mrs.  (iibb  has  stored  her  mind  with  substantial  reading.  She  was 
licensed  to  preach,  in  1874,  by  the  Illinois  Convention,  and  ordained  in  Syca- 
more, in  January,  187G.  She  was  first  settled  in  Kirkwood,  ill.,  as  regular 
pastor,  and  then  in  Sheridan.  Airs.  Gibb  did  a  good  work  for  our  church  in 
these  places.  Her  next  settlement  was  in  Waverly,  Iowa,  where  she  re- 
mained one  year.  Her  present  residence  (1881)  is  in  Charleston,  111.  She 
has  for  many  years  been  a  thorough  advocate  of  temperance,  and  her  lec- 
tures on  that  subject  have  been  spoken  of  as  strong  and  interesting.  Dur- 
ing the  first  two  years  of  her  ministry,  before  she  had  settled,  she  was 
agent  for  the  Woman's  Association  of  Illinois.  She  says,  "When  I  realize 
what  the  work  of  the  ministry  is,  and  how  small  and  weak  I  am,  I  feel  that 
I  am  scarcely  worthy  a  place  among  the  Woman  Workers." 


LOTTIE    DAVIS    CEOSLEY. 

In  answer  to  a  request  Mrs.  Crosley  responded,  "At  the  extreme  begin- 
ning, 'I  am  born,'  as  Copperfield  expressed  it.  Said  event  is  reported  to  have 
taken  place,  March  9,  1848,  in  Colerain  township,  Hamilton  Co.,  Ohio.'' 
Her  father  and  mother,  Joshua  and  Elizabeth  Davis,  were  the  parents  o\ 
eight  daughters,  she  being  the  seventh.  The  older  sisters  thought  it  easier 
to  perform  the  household  duties  than  to  teach  her  what  they  had  learned 
from  their  mother,  so  Lottie's  time  was  her  own  for  a  season,  and  1  am  v<  ry 
sure  none  of  it  was  lost,  for  she  roamed  the  fields  and  woods,  strengthening 
her  mind  by  contemplation,  and  her  body  by  exercise.  Bui  the  dear  old 
father,  flunking  that  was  idleness,   and  believing  that  Satan  found  mischief 


488  OUE   WOMAN    WOEKERS. 

for  just  such  hands  and  brains,  took  her  into  the  fields  for  a  different  purpose 
than  hunting  wild  flowers.  She  must  plant,  and  watch  the  coming  up  and 
blossoming  and  fruiting  of  the  staff  of  life,  and  so  she  worked  on  until  hus- 
bandry was  an  accomplished  science  with  her.  She  writes  me,  "I  have  done 
every  thing  in  the  line  of  farming  but  plowing,  and  to  this  fact  I  attribute 
largely  the  grand  physical  constitution  with  which  I  am  blessed.  I  was  not 
overworked  although  I  performed  tasks  which  now  seem  almost  incredible  to 
myself."  In  performing  the  labors  of  a  farmer,  she  became  an  expert  equestri- 
enne, almost  a  second  Kairy,  I  should  judge,  for  she  says,  "To-day  I  will  drive 
anything  one  may  choose  to  put  into  harness."  Her  first  affliction  was  in  the 
death  of  a  beloved  brother  by  a  railroad  collision.  It  was  a  sudden  arrow, 
and  it  pierced  deeply.  Soon  after  this  her  parents  removed  to  Oxford,  Butler 
Co.,  where  they  still  reside,  and  where  at  the  Female  College  she  gained  her 
education. 

On  the  fifteenth  of  December,  1867,  she  was  united  in  marriage  to  Mr. 
S.  Gath,  of  Oxford,  by  Kev.  Dr.  Cantwell.  She  says,  "In  eleven  months 
from  that  time  my  husband  was  buried.  Two  months  later  my  first  born,  a 
darling  boy,  came  to  bring  comfort  and  consolation,  which  only  those  who 
have  'passed  under  the  same  rod'  can  understand.  I  was  made  a  wife,  a 
widow  and  a  mother  before  my  twenty-first  birthday." 

In  1870  she  became  the  wife  of  Eev.  W.  J.  Crosley,  but  did  not  com- 
mence her  public  work  until  1875.  She  was  licensed  by  the  Ohio  Conven- 
tion in  June  1877,  but  previous  to  this  she  did  a  great  amount  of  work  for 
different  societies.  In  April,  1879,  ordination  was  conferred.  She  was 
pastor  at  Abington  and  Pleasant  Hill,  Indiana,  four  years;  at  Kidgeville  and 
Woodstock,  Ohio,  four  years.  The  past  year  she  has  been  preaching  at  Jef- 
fersonville  and  Palestine.  Aside  from  this  she  adds,  "I  have  done  not  a  little 
of  what  Kev.  W.  C.  Brooks,  of  Indiana,  calls  '  tramp  preaching.'  I  also  do  my 
own  house  work,  washing  and  ironing  included,  and  all  the  sewing  for  my 
family,  even  my  own  dressmaking,  and  quite  often  my  own  millinery,"  and 
to  my  surprise  she  adds,  "I  have  no  time  for  idleness  if  I  had  the  inclination !" 
She  is  the  mother  of  two  sons,  in  whom  her  heart  rejoices. 

Mrs.  Crosley  is  a  woman  of  superior  mental  gifts,  possesses  a  fine  voice 
and  unaffected  manner,  and  is  a  useful  and  effective  preacher. 


ELIZABETH    M.    BHUCE.  489 


FLORENCE  ELLEN  KOLLOCK. 

William  Edward,  the  father  of  Miss  Kollock,  was  a  native  of  New  Bruns- 
wick, her  mother,  Ann  Margaret  Hunter,  was  a  native  of  England.  Miss 
Kollock's  father  and  hrothers,  Nelson,  George  and  Wellington  (who  was  killed 
at  Buena  Vista  in  a  tornado),  removed  to  Wisconsin  many  years  ago.  Miss 
Kollock's  father  lived  in  Waukesha,  where  she  was  bom  on  the  19th  of  Jan- 
uary, 1849.  She  was  graduated  at  St.  Lawrence  Theological  School,  in  1876, 
and  was  ordained  in  1877,  Bev.  A.  J.  Chapin  preaching  her  ordination  ser- 
mon. Her  first  settlement  was  in  Waverly,  la.,  where  she  gave  good  satis- 
faction. She  commenced  an  engagement  with  the  Blue  Island,  Hi.,  society, 
in  September,  1878.  During  the  years  1880  and  1881,  she  divided  her  time 
between  Blue  Island  and  Englewood.  In  the  latter  place  she  assisted  in 
collecting  funds  for  building  a  church,  which  was  dedicated  in  June,  1881. 
She  resigned  the  parish  at  Blue  Island  in  June,  1881,  for  the  purpose  of 
spending  her  entire  time  with  the  Englewood  society,  and  the  society  in  Blue 
Island  passed  complimentary  resolutions  when  she  left. 


ELIZABETH    M.    BRUCE. 

Mrs.  Bruce  writes  me,  in  reply  to  the  question  which  is  usually  consid- 
ered impolite,  "I  was  born  Sept.  30,  1830,  and  am,  therefore,  in  Septem- 
ber, 1881,  51  years  old."  She  was  born  in  Middleport,  Niagara  Co.,  New 
York.  Her  father,  Eli  Hurd,  was  a  gentleman  of  culture,  refinement  and 
exquisite  taste,  and  cultivated  in  his  daughter  a  love  of  the  beautiful,  and  her 
childhood  home  was  one  of  beauty,  the  memory  of  which  will  be  a  "joy  for- 
ever." Her  mother,  Lucy  Crocker  Hurd,  died  when  her  daughter  was  only 
three  years  old. 

Mrs.  Bruce  was  educated  at  Clinton  Liberal  Institute,  Ingham  Univer- 

32 


490  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

sity,  and  Antioch  College,  and  left  college  finely  educated;  but  she  continues 
to  be  a  student.  She  was  married  in  1853  to  Rev.  J.  E.  Bruce;  after  that, 
she  had  the  usual  peripatetic  lot  of  a  minister's  wife,  living  in  Taunton,  Sip- 
pican  and  Newburyport,  Mass.,  Middletown,  Conn., and Shoreham,  Vermont, 
after  which  she  spent  four  years  in  the  British  Islands,  mostly  in  Lynn 
Begis. 

In  1860  Mrs.  Bruce  preached  her  first  sermon ;  after  that  for  seven  years 
she  remained  "pulpit  silent."  The  last  fourteen  years  she  has  preached  most 
of  the  time.  She  has  written  three  series  of  Sunday-school  books,  "Life 
Stories  for  Children,"  "Happy  Heart  and  Helpful  Hand"  series  (twenty-one 
in  number),  also  a  part  of  the  "Myrtle"  series.  Her  stories  deservedly  rank 
high  as  among  the  best  of  our  juvenile  literature.  She  has  also  written  one 
novel,  "A  Thousand  a  Year,"  and  many  smaller  stories.  She  has  edited  the 
"Myrtle,"  our  Sunday-school  weekly,  published  in  Boston,  for  seven  years. 

She  is  singularly  quiet  and  unassuming  in  demeanor.  Her  own  estimate 
of  herself  is  far  below  that  cherished  by  her  friends  and  those  who  know  her 
best.  She  is  a  busy  and  patient  worker,  whose  chief  reward  is  in  the  good 
influence  she  always  exerts. 

As  a  speaker  in  Conference  meetings  she  is  simple  and  eloquent.  The 
following  is  a  favorable  specimen  of  her  writings: 

VISIT    OF    THE    BURIED    HOURS. 

'Tis  night,  a  holy  Autumn  night. 

The   very  air  is  still. 
The  Autumn  wind  is  breathing  low 

Against   yon  distant  hill; 
I  cannot  sleep,  a  troubled  dream 

Is  flitting  through  my  brain. 
And  memories  which  I  long  since  lost, 

Come  back  to  me  again. 

I  see  within  their  quiet  graves 

The  buried  hopes  of  years, 
And  heavily  they  press  my  heart 

So  full  of  bitter  tears. 
The  wasted  hours,  the  days  misspent, 

The  hopes  unrealized. 
Conic   to   mi'   as   Christ's   little  ones 

Of  him  yet  un  baptized. 


ANNETTE    J.    SHAW.  491 

Oh  help  me,  God,  to  humbly  Bpend, 

In  truthful  prayer,  this  hour. 
Thai  these  lone  orphaned  visitors 

.May  Leave  their  mighty  power 
Upon   my   heart,   and   unto   it 

May  Borne  new  strength  be  ^iven, 
To  conseorate  and  new  baptize 

Mr  for  the  work  of  heaven. 


JOSEPHINE   LAPHAM 

Was  a  young  woman  of  rare  mind,  a  graduate  of  Antioch  College.  She 
was  licensed  to  preach  in  1808.  The  "Repository"  contains  an  essay  from 
her  pen  on  "Woman's  Work  in  the  Sunday-school,"  which  is  eloquent.  Miss 
Lapham  was  from  Woodstock,  0. 


ANNETTE    J.    SHAW 

Is  among  the  younger  workers  in  the  ministry  of  the  Universalist  church. 
Her  labors  have  been  many,  and  faithfully  performed.  She  was  born  in  Sut- 
ton, Vt.,  June  7,  1848,  and  was  the  daughter  of  Daniel  G.  and  Lovina  Shaw. 
She  was  educated  in  Barton  Academy,  and  the  Green  Mountain  Institute, 
South  Woodstock,  Vt.,  there  fitting  for  college.  In  the  Fall  of  1809  she  en- 
tered St.  Lawrence  University,  and  graduated  in  1873,  receiving  the  degree 
of  A.  B.  On  leaving  college  she  was  at  once  engaged  as  preceptress  of  Can- 
ton Union  School,  where  she  taught  the  languages,  and  largely  fitted  her 
classes  for  entering  college.  But  her  mind  was  upon  the  ministry,  so  relin- 
quishing teaching,  she  set  herself  to  the  task  of  preparing  fully  for  it.  In  the 
Autumn  of  1874  she  entered  Canton  Theological  School,  graduating  in  1*7*',, 
and  during  her  theological  course  was  instructor  in  St.  Lawrence  University, 


492  OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

in  German  and  Greek.  On  graduating  from  the  University,  Miss  Shaw  chose 
for  her  subject,  "The  Power  of  Fiction  in  Beform,"  and  on  graduating  from 
the  Theological  School  chose,  "Is  it  the  Office  of  Eehgion  to  Drive  Men  or 
to  Draw  Them?"  She  was  ordained  to  the  full  work  of  the  Christian  min- 
istry at  East  Charleston,  Vt.,  Oct.  25,  1877,  where,  and  at  Barton  Landing, 
she  was  settled.  But  after  a  few  months  of  labor  in  these  places  she 
was  obliged  to  relinquish  her  work  on  account  of  ill  health,  for  the  period  of 
two  years.  But  in  November  of  1879  she  was  invited  to  assume  charge  of  a 
movement  in  the  vicinity  of  Barton,  Vt.,  where  she  remained,  until  recently 
she  has  accepted  a  caU  from  Blue  Island,  111.  As  a  sermonizer  and  preacher 
she  ranks  high,  and  her  associates  in  the  ministry  have  accorded  her  places 
of  trust  and  honor.  She  gave  the  Occasional  Sermon  before  the  Northern 
(Vt.)  Association,  in  1879.  and  was  Standing  Clerk  of  the  same  for  a 
series  of  years. 


MAEY   A.    STEAUB. 


Joseph  and  Elizabeth  Straub,  the  parents  of  Mary,  were  American  born, 
of  German  parents.  They  came  into  DeKalb  Co.,  Ind.,  when  it  was  a  wil- 
derness, and  struggled  on  against  wind  and  tide  until  Mary  was  five  years 
old,  when,  desiring  a  better  fortune,  they  determined  to  remove  to  another 
part  of  the  State,  CarroU  County,  where  they  resided  but  a  short  time,  when 
the  sickness  of  the  entire  family  forced  them  back  into  the  old  neighborhood. 

Mary  never  recovered  from  the  malaria  contracted  in  Carroll  County, 
where  they  sought  their  fortune,  but  where  constant  sickness  disturbed 
the  welfare  and  happiness  of  the  family.  Her  parents  were  zealous, 
church-going  people,  but  of  different  denominations.  When  Mary  was 
thirteen  years  old  she  united  with  the  church  of  the  "United  Brethren,"  but 
all  at  once  darkness  obscured  her  spiritual  vision,  and  she  exclaimed  to  her- 
self aloud,  "I  wish  it  were  not  so,  but  I  suppose  it  must  be,  for  everybody 
says  so,  and  I  read  in  the  Bible  that  there  is  an  eternal  hell."     She  had 


MA11Y    A.    STKAUB.  493 

never  heard  of  the  doctrine  of  universal  salvation,  and  it  was  some  time  be- 
fore she  heard  it  preached.     She  kept  on  praying  for  light,  and  it  cami 

it  always  will  to  those-  who  pray  with  earnestness.  A  light  shone  in  upon 
her  heart  that  illuminated  the  whole  world  to  her,  and  through  its  light  she 
saw  God,  not  a  partial,  hut  a  universal  Father.  She  was  happy.  But  her 
repose  in  this  wonderful  revelation  was  to  be  tried  in  the  crucible  of  experi- 
ence. She  felt  the  approach  of  a  great  Borrow  which  followed,  hut  the  new 
faith  she  had  embraced  not  only  sustained  her  hut  grew  brighter.  The  fa- 
ther soon  crossed  to  his  home  beyond  the  tide,  and  teaching  was  the  only 
resource  of  his  daughter,  which  she  attempted,  but  was  soon  obliged  to  aban- 
don. It  seemed  as  though  she  must  be  tried  as  by  fire.  She  had  left  the 
church  of  which  she  had  been  a  member  for  some  time,  and  had  had  no  op- 
portunity to  join  the  one  that  in  maturer  years  was  her  choice.  Is  it  any 
wonder  that  a  young  girl,  in  feeble  health,  without  parents  ami  without 
means,  should  in  moments  of  despondency  feel  that  she  had  neither  temporal 
nor  spiritual  home?  But  every  time  when  her  star  of  hope  had  touched  the 
horizon  to  disappear  and  leave  her  in  darkness,  it  would  return  and  light  up 
her  mind  with  greater  clearness.  She  was  soon  situated  so  as  to  unite  with 
the  church  of  her  choice,  at  Huntertown,  Ind.,  which  was  then  under  the 
charge  of  Rev.  J.  Merrifield.  In  18G5  she  was  transferred  to  the  church  in 
Dowagiac,  Mich.,  where  she  became  very  much  interested  in  denominational 
work. 

In  October,  1870,  in  Portland,  she  delivered  her  first  sermon.  As  a  lit- 
erary effort  it  was  highly  spoken  of,  but  her  friends,  on  account  of  deficient 
health,  advised  a  literary  held.  But  her  heart  longed  to  tell  the  glad  tidings  it 
rejoiced  in,  and  so, -in  1875,  she  obtained  license  to  preach  from  the  Bi 
Convention  of  Illinois,  but  after  several  efforts  she  found  her  health  insuffi- 
cient for  the  duties  and  responsibilities  of  the  preacher,  and  she  abandoned 
the  idea,  hut  vainly  endeavored  to  settle  her  thoughts  and  affections  upon 
other  employment. 

Finally,  in  1878,  she  received  and  accepted  a  unanimous  invitation  from 
Castalia,  la.,  where   she  united   her  efforts    with  a   small    band  of   beli<  \ 
whom  Rev.  I.  A.  Eberhari    had  organized   into  a  church,  which   has  steadily 
increased  under  the  influence  of  her  ministry.     She  was  ordained  this  same 


494  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

year,  in  Peoria,  111.,  in  September,  at  the  State  Convention.  Castalia  is  the 
only  settlement  she  has  had,  and  the  following  is  the  estimation  in  which 
she  is  held  in  this  small  but  intelligent  society. 

Mr.  Morell  Clark  writes,  "I  see  by  a  late  Star  and  Covenant  that  you 
are  to  publish  biographical  sketches  of  our  'Woman  Workers,'  and  we  beg  to 
be  allowed  a  corner  for  our  dear  pastor,  Eev.  M.  A.  Straub.  We  wish  to  tes- 
tify to  her  true  and  gentle  Christian  character,  to  the  good  work  she  has 
done,  to  our  love  for  her,  and  the  universal  verdict  that  she  has  every  trait 
needed  to  make  a  good  and  efficient  minister,  except  good  health.  She  re- 
sponds cheerfully  to  every  demand  made  upon  her  time.  Among  the  many, 
but  by  no  means  the  least,  she  has  taught  us  to  love  our  neighbors  as  our- 
selves. The  idea  of  employing  a  woman  preacher  seemed  dreadful  to  outsiders, 
but  we  felt  that  nothing  could  be  more  proper  than  that  the  Gospel  of  divine 
love  shoidd  be  preached  by  our  Marys  and  Marthas.  That  our  blessed  faith 
affords  the  richest  fields  for  woman's  love  to  glean,  can  not  be  denied,  and  as 
time  rolls  on,  we  feel  more  certain  than  ever  that  our  faith  was  well  founded, 
and  that  in  this  modest  and  conscientious  little  woman  we  have  a  pearl  of 
great  price,  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  whose  daily  walk  speaks  volumes,  and 
whose  life  overflows  with  that  soul-inspiring  eloquence  so  essential  to  one  of 
her  profession." 

Miss  Straub  is  s-ister  to  Rev.  J.  Straub  and  to  S.  W.  Straub,  the  musical 
composer.  She  has  been  a  contributor  to  religious  and  secular  papers  for 
many  years,  and  has  a  happy  faculty  of  writing  songs  and  hymns  for  Sunday- 
school  singing  books. 


CAREIE    W.    BBAINARD. 

Miss  lhainard  was  bom  in  Lee,  Oneida  Co.,  N.  Y.,  in  1852.  In  1855 
her  parents  moved  to  Oneida,  111.  After  graduating  at  the  High  School  in 
that  place,  she  took  a  college  course  at  Lombard  University,  Galesburg,  111. 
She  graduated  in  1875  with  honor.  In  September,  1878,  she  went  to  Can- 
ton, N.  Y.,  to  attend  the  Theological  School,  and  her  mind  grasped  readily 


RUTH    A.    J).    TABOR.  195 

the  theory  of  the  doctrine  that  it  is  her  duty  and  pleasure  to  teach  to  othi 

She  was  licensed  to  preach  by  the  New  York  Statu  Convention,  January, 
1880,  and  was  ordained  in  Leroy,  111.,  her  first  settlement,  in  February,  1881. 
Miss  Urainard  is  from  a  good  family,  and  has  thoroughly  fitted  herself  for 
the  important  profession  she  has  chosen,  and  has  taken  hold  <>f  her  work  in 
earnest.  She  is  a  modest,  dignified  woman,  who  wins  friends  by  her  straight- 
forward frankness. 


ABBIE   E.    DANFORTH 

Is  a  woman  especially  fitted  for  the  ministry.  She  was  graduated  from 
St.  Lawrence  Theological  School,  in  1877.  She  was  ordained  in  1H7*.  Sin- 
is  a  woman  of  heart,  brain  and  good  common  sense.  She  writes,  "When  quite 
a  young  girl  and  enveloped  in  clouds  of  scepticism,  having  lost  faith  in  the 
God  of  whom  I  had  been  taught  in  the  Bible,  and  in  nearly  everything  per- 
taining to  Christianity,  the  'Star  in  the  West'  began  shining  in  my  home,  and 
it  shone  brighter  and  blighter  there  for  twenty-one  years.  It  brought  many 
things  from  the  darkness  to  light,  that  were  new  and  precious  to  me.  It  be- 
came a  member  of  our  family." 

Mrs.  Danforth  possesses  rare  gifts  for  usefulness  in  the  Chiistian  min- 
istry. 


RUTH   A.    D.    TABOR 

Was  born  at  West  Scituate,  Mass.  She  has  splendid  elocutionary  abil- 
ity. She  was  finely  educated  before  going  to  St.  Lawrence  Theological 
School,  at  which  place  she  took  a  partial  course.  She  has  had  settlements 
at  Cavendish,  Williamsville  and   Springfield,  Yt.,  and  a   portion  of  the  time 


496  OUR    WOMAN    WORKERS. 

was  at  Winchester,  N.  H.  She  is  now  preaching  at  Gaysville  and  Bethel, 
Vt.  She  was  married  to  Rev.  James  B.  Tabor,  Aug.  25,  1869.  Her  hus- 
band is  one  of  the  two  sons  that  Rev.  T.  H.  Tabor,  of  Illinois,  has  given  to 
our  ministry.  The  sons  are  of  great  credit  to  the  father,  who  is  one  of  our 
devoted  and  consecrated  ministers. 


MARIANNA   THOMPSON   FOLSOM 

Was  ordained  in  1870,  and  subsequently  married  Rev.  A.  P.  Folsom. 
They  now  reside  in  MarshaUtown,  la.,  where  Mr.  Folsom  is  engaged  in  sec- 
ular business.     Mrs.  Folsom  is  not  regularly  employed  in  ministerial  labor. 


LORENZA   HAYNES 

Formerly  resided  in  Waltham,  Mass.,  and  was  an  efficient  and  faithful 
librarian  in  that  town.  She  is  a  graduate  of  St.  Lawrence  Theological 
School,  and  was  ordained  in  1875.     She  resides  at  present  in  Fairfield,  Me. 


ANNETTE    G.   WALTZE, 

Who,  her  friends  say,  has  a  capacity  for  a  future  brilliant  record,  was 
born  in  Augusta,  Maine,  Feb.  26,  1849.  She  graduated  at  the  Augusta  High 
School,  and  then  attended  the  Normal  at  Farmington.  By  Rev.  Dr.  Quin- 
by's  advice  and  under  his  supervision,  she  preached  her  first  sermon  in  Litch- 
field, Maine,  Oct.  23,  1876.  Miss  Waltze  entered  Canton  Theological  School, 
Oct.  11,  1877,  and  graduated  in  June,  1880.     She  was  licensed  in  January, 


EMMA    E.    BAILEY.  497 

1880,  and  in  July  of  that  year  made  an  engagement  with  the  society  at 
Brownfield,  Maine.  She  was  ordained  in  Brownfield,  in  September,  1881. 
Miss  Waltze  uses  her  pen  with  ease,  and  lias  a  natural  gift  for  writing 
hymns,  several  of  which  have  attracted  marked  attention. 


ELLA    ELIZABETH    BAKTLETT 

Is  finely  educated,  and  graduated  at  St.  Lawrence  Theological  School  in 
1878.     Her  present  settlement  (1881)  is  Geneva,  N.  Y. 


CAKOLINE    ELIZA    ANGELL 

Was  ordained  in  1877,  and  is  now  residing  at  Pittsfield,  Maine.  Before 
her  ordination  she  supplied  the  pulpit  made  vacant  by  Rev.  Mrs.  Roberts, 
and  after  her  death,  assisted  in  a  memorial  service  which  was  given  in  the 
church  in  Kittery,  Maine. 


EMMA    E.    BAILEY 


Is  the  daughter  of  Rev.  G.  W.  and  Eliza  Bailey,  and  sister  of  Rev. 
James  Murray  Bailey.  She  was  licensed  to  preach  in  1878,  and  ordained  in 
July,  1881.  She  had  preached  as  an  evangelist  for  three  years.  West 
Swanzey  was  her  first  settlement  as  pastor.  For  the  last  eight  years  Miss 
Bailey  has  worked  in  some  way  with  brain,  voice  or  hand,  for  the  faith  that 
is  so  dear  to  her.  She  is  a  young  lady  of  great  amiability  and  earn 
and  can  never  bring  discredit  upon  the  cause  she  loves.  With  her  mother 
she  hopes  soon  to  publish  a  book — "Life  Experiences." 


498  OUE   WOMAN    WORKERS. 

MYEA    KINGSBUEY. 

This,  the  latest  woman  to  enter  our  ministry,  was  ordained  just  as  this 
page  was  being  made  up.  She  was  ordained  in  Sheshequin,  Pa.,  Sept. 
8,  1881.     She  is  settled  in  Williston,  Vt., 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS. 

Besides  credits  given  in  the  body  of  this  volume  to  those  who  have  aided  me. 
I  must  record  my  acknowledgments  to  my  husband  whose  intimate  knowledge  of 
our  people  and  sympathy  in  my  book,  have  furnished  me  with  many  facts  and 
suggestions,  and  stimulated  me  to  the  delightful  employment  of  two  busy  years. 
Next  to  him,  my  revered  friend,  Rev.  A.  B.  Grosh,  has  been  of  invaluable  assist- 
ance, by  most  enthusiastic  and  untiring  efforts  which  have  greatly  added  to  the 
interest  of  the  book.  Besides  these  I  have  been  much  helped  by  Mrs.  M.  L. 
Thomas,  I.  M.  Atwood,  D.D.,  Hon.  F.  B.  Fay,  C.  H.  Leonard,  D.D.,  H.  W.  Bellows, 
D.D.,  G.  S.  Weaver,  D.D.,  J.  S.  Cantwell,  D.D.,  Sylvanus  Cobb,  Jr.,  Rev.  B.  F. 
Rogers,  Miss  Mary  Norton,  Rev.  Anson  Titus,  Rev.  Richard  Eddy,  Chas.  Caverly, 
Esq.,  T.  B.  Thayer,  D.D.,  S.  H.  Colesworthy,  Esq.,  Mrs.  C.  M.  Sawyer,  Hon.  I. 
Washburne,  G.  L.  Demarest,  D.D.,  J.  S.  Lee,  D.D.,  Richard  J.  Hinton,  Esq.,  Dr.  L. 
P.  Brockett,  Mrs.  B.  Stainton,  and  others.  They  all  have  my  thanks  in  my  own 
behalf,  and  in  behalf  of  my  readers, 


Index  of  Illustrations. 


Barton.  Clara 368 

Bingham,  Henrietta  A L89 

Chapin,  Augusta  J 470 

Cobb,  Eunice  H Frontispiece 

Hanaford,  Phoebe  A 451 

Jerauld,  Charlotte  A 98 

Liverinore,  Mary  A 120 


Mayo,  Sarah  C.  E SO 

Perkins,  Sarah  M 403 

Sawyer,  ('aniline  M 145 

Scott,  Julia  H 63 

Soule,  Caroline  A 437 

Thomas,  M.  Louise 301 

Tomlinson.  Eineline  C 272 


Index  of  Biographies. 


Adams,  Martha  A 311 

Adams,  Mary  H 115 

Angell,  Caroline  E - 497 

Bacon,  E.  A 337 

Bailey,  Emma  E 497 

Baker,  Harriet  S 168 

Barnes,  Lucy 11 

Barnes,  Sarah  M 457 

BartlOtt,  E.  E 497 

Barton.  Clara 368 

Bates,  Anna  M. 209 

Bingham,  Henrietta  A 189 

Brainard,  Carrie  \Y 494 

Ulan. shard.  Harriet  M 312 

Bowies,  Ada  C 478 

Broughton,  Sarah 31 

Browne  Elizabeth  D 295 

Brown,  LueindaW 389 

Brown,  Olympia 427 

Bruce,  Elizabeth  M 489 

Buehtel.  Elizabeth 385 

Bu.k.  Levisa 18 

Burr.  Elsie  A 332 

Cantwell,  Orphia  E 350 


Carney,  Julia  A 170 

Car  y,  Alice 355 

Cary,  Phcebe 355 

Case,  L,  J.  B 297 

Case.  Lydia  H 291 

Chapin,  Augusta  J 432 

chapin  Home 407 

Chloe  Pierce  Professorship 422 

Clarke,  Aurora 398 

Clark.  Mary  T 462 

Cobb.  Eunice  H.  W 41 

Cook.  Maria 424 

Creamer,  Lucy  U 259 

Crosley.  Lottie  D 188 

Danforth,  A.  E 

Davis,  Mary  E 242 

I)a\is.  Minnie  S ]  79 

DeLong.  Mary  J 467 

Dunbar.  Sarah  E 390 

Dunn. Sally 21 

Elizabeth  Buehtel  Professorship 422 

Folsom,  MariaimaT 196 

Gage,  Prances  l>  <;o 

Gaylord,  Mrs,  N.  M 397 


500 


OUR   WOMAN    WORKERS. 


Gibb,  Sophie 486 

Gilson,  Helen  L 314 

Gillette.  Lucia  F.  W 471 

Goddard,  M.  T 353 

Graves,  Esther 397 

Gregg,  Sarah 392 

Griswold,  Hattie  T 217 

Grosh,  Hannah  R 287 

Hanaford.  Phoebe  A 451 

Haskell.  P.  LeClerc 484 

Hathaway.  Cynthia  0 265 

Haynes,  Lorenza 496 

Hill,  Sophia 236 

Hunt,  Harriet  K 393 

Illinois  Association 419 

Indiana  Association 420 

Introduction v 

Jenkins,  Ly dia  A 426 

Jerauld,  Charlotte  A 98 

Kingsbury,  Myra 498 

Kollock,  Florence  E 489 

Ladies'  Kepositor v 423 

Lapham,  Josephine 491 

Lathrop,  E.  A.  B 337 

Livermore,  Mary  A 120 

Manford.  H.  B 394 

Manley,  Melvina  M 166 

Marsh,  Sarah  S 346 

Marvin,  Anna  L 341 

Mather,  Elizabeth  L Ill 

Mayo,  S.  C.  E 80 

McKinstry.  Sally 24 

Mellen,  Mrs.  B 390 

Messenger,  L.  A.  E 352 

Michigan  Association 420 

Mdes,  Ellen  M 234 

Ministers'  Wives 403 

Hortell,  Mary 395 

Monroe,  Nancy  T 333 

Moore,  Mary  T 332 

Mi  in  roe,  Jane  388 

.Murray,  Judith 3 

Noble,  EdnaC 237 

Northrop,  Myra  J 337 

Norton  .  Aila  R 296 

Outlaw,  Julia  E 229 

Packard,  Sarah 397 

Page,  Emily  R 171 

Patterson,  JaneL 249 

Perkins,  Sarah  M <n;:s 


Perry.  Harriet  G 105 

Pierce,  Emeline  R 345 

Plummer,  J.  S.  and  S 395 

Porter,  Charlotte 426 

Powers,  Ermina 394 

Pray,  Mary  C 57 

Professorships,  Woman 385 

Quinby,  Cordelia  A 178 

Reed,  Mary  T 329 

Remick,  Martha 238 

Repository,  Ladies' 423 

Rich,  Helen 154 

Roberts,  Fannie  U 483 

Rockwell,  C.  F 233 

Root,  Amanda  L 214 

Sawyer,  Caroline  M 145 

Sawyer.  Elizabeth  E 347 

Scott,  Julia  H 63 

Shaw,  Annette  J 491 

Sherwood,  Emily  L 245 

Skinner,  Gracia 393 

Smith,  E.  Oakes 278 

Smith,  Lucy  S 269 

Soule,  Caroline  A 437 

Spear,  Mrs.  C 396 

Stacy.  Elizabeth  D 392 

Start,  Lena 229 

St.  Mary  Professorship 421 

Straub.  Mary  A 492 

Tabor,  Ruth  A.  D 495 

Thomas,  M.  Louise 301 

Thompson,  Sarah 396 

Thy ng,  Annie  M 310 

Todd,  Adaline 381 

Tomlinson,  Emeline  C 272 

Unknown  Women 398 

Vassall,  Sarah  B 396 

Waldo,  ElminaR.B 76 

Waltze,  Annette  G 496 

Washburne,  Martha 384 

Weaver,  H.  L 267 

Webster,  Mary  C 161 

Wilkes.  Eliza T 481 

Willis.  O.  B 427 

Wisconsin  Association 418 

Woman's  Centenary 410 

Woman  Ministers 424 

Woman  Professorship 385 


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